THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


CAPTIVATING  MARY  CARSTAIRS 


CAPTIVATING 
MARY  CARSTAIRS 


BY 

HENRY   SYDNOR  HARRISON 

AUTHOR  OF  "QUEED"  AND  "  v.  v.'s  EYES" 


WITH    A    FRONTISPIECE    BY 
R.  M.  CROSBY 


(This  book  was  first  published  pseudonymously  in  February,  IQII) 


BOSTON 

SMALL,   MAYNARD    AND    COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  1914, 
BY  SMALL,  MAYNARD  AND  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 


Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall 


Third  Printing,  April,  1914 

Fourth  Printing,  May,  1914 

Fifth  Printing,  June,  1914 

Sixth  Printing  July,   1914 


THH   UNIVERSITY    PRESS,    CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


3515 


To   NAWNY  :  HER  BOOK 


,      f~     X 

'L-' 


NOTE 

This  book,  representing  the  writer's  first  efort  at  a  long  story,  has 
something  of  a  story  of  Us  own.  First  planned  in  1900  or  1901,  it  was 
begun  in  1905,  and  finished  at  length,  in  a  version,  three  years  later. 
Through  the  two  years  succeeding  it  underwent  various  adventures,  in 
cluding,  if  memory  serves,  two  complete  overhaulings.  Having  thus  reached 
by  stages  something  like  its  present  form,  it  was,  in  August,  1910,  favor 
ably  reported  on  by  the  publishers  ;  but  yet  another  rewriting  preceded 
its  final  acceptance,  a  few  weeks  later.  Meanwhile,  I  had  turned  to 
fresh  work  ;  and,  as  it  chanced,  "  Queed  "  was  both  begun  and  finished 
in  the  interval  while  "  Captivating  Mary  Carstairs  "  was  taking  her  last 
journeys  abroad.  Turned  away  by  two  publishers,  the  newer  manuscript 
shortly  found  welcome  from  a  third.  So  it  befell  that  I,  as  yet  more 
experienced  in  rejections,  suddenly  found  myself  with  two  books,  of  widely 
dijjerent  sorts  and  intentions,  scheduled  for  publication  by  different  pub 
lishers,  almost  simultaneously.  As  this  seemed  to  be  more  books  than 
society  required  from  an  unknown  writer,  it  was  decided  to  put  out  the 
present  story  —  which  is  a  "story"  as  I  conceive  the  terms,  and  not  a 
novel —  over  a  pen  name. 

At  that  time,  be  it  said,  with  an  optimism  that  now  has  its  humorous 
side,  I  viewed  myself  prospectively  as  a  ready  and  fertile  writer,  produc 
ing  a  steady  flow  of  books  of  very  various  sorts.  Hence  it  occurred  to  me 
that  a  pseudonym  might  have  a  permanent  serviceability.  So  far  from 
these  anticipations  proving  justified,  I  am  now  moved  to  abandon  the 
pseudonym  in  the  only  instance  I  have  had  occasion  to  use  it.  Writers 
have  sometimes  been  charged  with  seeking  to  capitalize  their  own  good  for 
tune.  My  motive,  in  authorizing  the  republication  of  this  story  over  my 
name,  is  not  that.  The  fact  is  only  that  experience  has  taught  me  not  to 
like  pseudonymity :  my  feeling  being  that  those  who  take  an  interest  in 
my  work  are  entitled,  if  they  so  desire,  to  see  it  as  a  whole. 

H.  S.  H. 

Charleston,  West  Virginia, 
16  March,  1914 


Contents 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I     The  Chief  Conspirator  Secures  a  Pal  ....          i 

II     They  Embark  upon  a  Crime 18 

III  They  Arrive  in  Hunston  and  Fall    in   with  a 

Stranger 24 

IV  Which    Concerns    Politics    and    other    Local 

Matters 31 

V     Introduces  Mary  Carstairs  and  Another  ...       51 
VI     The  Hero  Talks  with  a  Lady  in  the  Dark     .  59 

VII     In  which  Mary  Carstairs  is  Invited  to  the  Yacht 

"Cypriani" 72 

VIII     Concerning  Mr.  Ferris  Stanhope,   the  Popular 

Novelist ;  also  Peter,  the  Quiet  Onlooker    .       7  7 

IX     Varney  Meets  with  a  Galling  Rebuff,  while  Peter 

Goes  Marching  On 94 

X     The  Editor  of  the  Gazette  Plays  a  Card   from 

His  Sleeve 117 

XI     Which  Shows  the  Hero  a  Fugitive       .     .     .     .     134 

XII     A  Yellow  Journalist  Secures  a  Scoop  but  Fails 

to  Get  Away  with  it 143 

XIII  Varney  Meets  His  Enemy  and  is  Disarmed  .     .      162 

XIV  Conference  between  Mr.  Hackley,  the  Dog  Man, 

and  Mr.  Ryan,  the  Boss 172 


viii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XV     In  which  Varney  Does  Not  Pay  a  Visit,  but 

Receives  One 182 

XVI     Wherein  Several  Large  Difficulties  are  Smoothed 

Away 191 

XVII     A  Little  Luncheon  Party  on  the  Yacht  "Cy- 

priani " 211 

XVIII     Captivating  Mary 236 

XIX     In  which  Mr.  Higginson  and  the  Sailing-Master 

Both  Merit  Punishment,  and  Both  Escape  it     249 

XX     Varney,  Having  Embarked  upon  a  Crime,  Finds 

out  that  there  is  a  Price  to  Pay      .     .     .     .     262 

XXI     Mr.  Ferris  Stanhope  Meets   His  Double  ;  and 

Lets  the  Double  Meet  Everything  Else    .     .     279 

XXII  Relating  How  Varney  Fails  to  Die  ;  and  Why 
Smith  Remained  in  Hunston ;  and  How  a 
Reception  is  Planned  for  Mr.  Higginson  .  299 

XXIII     In    which    Varney,    after    all,    Redeems    His 

Promise 319 


CAPTIVATING    MARY   CARSTAIRS 


Captivating  Mary  Carstairs 


CHAPTER    I 

THE    CHIEF    CONSPIRATOR    SECURES    A    PAL 

In  a  rear  room  of  a  quaint  little  house  uptown,  a 
great  bronzed-faced  man  sat  at  a  piano,  a  dead  pipe  be 
tween  his  teeth,  and  absently  played  the  most  difficult 
of  Beethoven's  sonatas.  Though  he  played  it  divinely, 
the  three  men  who  sat  smoking  and  talking  in  a  nearby 
corner  paid  not  the  least  attention  to  him.  The  player, 
it  seemed,  did  not  expect  them  to :  he  paid  very  little 
attention  himself. 

Next  to  the  selection  of  members,  that  is,  no  doubt, 
the  most  highly  prized  thing  about  the  Curzon  Club : 
you  are  not  expected  to  pay  attention  unless  you  want 
to.  It  is  a  sanctuary  where  no  one  can  bore  you,  ex 
cept  yourself.  The  members  have  been  chosen  with 
this  in  mind,  and  not  chosen  carelessly. 

Lord  Pembroke,  who  married  a  Philadelphia!!,  is 
quoted  as  saying  that  the  Curzon  is  the  most  demo 
cratic  club  in  a  too  confoundedly  democratic  country. 
M.  Arly,  the  editor,  has  told  Paris  that  it  is  the  most 
exclusive  club  in  the  world.  Probably  both  were  right 
The  electing  board  is  the  whole  club,  and  a  candidate 
is  stone-dead  at  the  first  blackball;  but  no  stigma  at- 


2  CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

taches  to  him  for  that.  Of  course,  it  is  a  small  club. 
Also,  though  money  is  the  least  of  all  passports  there, 
it  is  a  wealthy  club.  No  stretch  of  the  imagination 
could  describe  its  dues  as  low.  But  through  its  sons 
of  plutocracy,  and  their  never-ending  elation  at  find 
ing  themselves  in,  has  arisen  the  Fund,  by  which  poor 
but  honest  men  can  join,  and  do  join,  with  never  a 
thought  of  ways  and  means.  Of  these  Herbert  Horn 
ing,  possibly  the  best-liked  man  in  the  club,  who  sup 
ported  a  large  family  off  the  funny  department  of  a 
magazine,  was  one.  He  had  spurned  the  suggestion 
when  it  was  first  made  to  him,  and  had  reluctantly 
foregone  his  election;  whereon  Peter  Maginnis  had 
taken  him  aside,  a  dash  of  red  in  his  ordinarily 
composed  eye. 

"How  much?"  he  demanded  brutally. 

"  How  much  for  what?" 

"How  much  for  you?"  roared  Peter.  "How 
much  must  the  club  pay  you  to  get  you  in?  " 

Horning  stared,  pained. 

"  God  meant  no  man  to  be  a  self-conscious  ass," 
said  Peter  more  mildly.  "  The  club  pays  you  a  high 
compliment,  and  you  have  the  nerve  to  reply  that  you 
don't  take  charity.  I  suppose  if  Congress  voted  you 
a  medal  for  writing  the  funniest  joke  in  America, 
you  'd  have  it  assayed  and  remit  the  cash.  Chuck  it, 
will  you  ?  Once  in  a  year  we  find  a  man  we  want,  and 
then  we  go  ahead  and  take  him.  We  don't  think  much 
of  money  here  but  —  as  I  say,  how  much?" 

The  "  but  "  implied  that  Horning  did,  and  hurt  as 
it  was  meant  to.  He  came  into  the  club,  took  cheer- 


THE   CHIEF   CONSPIRATOR  3 

fully  what  they  offered  him  that  way,  and  felt  grateful 
ever  afterwards  that  Maginnis  had  steered  him  to 
the  light. 

The  big  man,  Maginnis  himself,  sat  on  at  the  piano, 
his  great  ringers  rambling  deftly  over  the  keys.  He 
was  playing  Brahms  now  and  doing  it  magnificently. 
He  was  fifteen  stone,  all  bone  and  muscle,  and  looked 
thirty  pounds  heavier,  because  you  imagined,  mistak 
enly,  that  he  carried  a  little  fat.  He  was  the  richest 
man  in  the  club,  at  least  so  far  as  prospects  went,  but 
he  wore  ready-made  clothes,  and  one  inferred,  cor 
rectly,  that  a  suit  of  them  lasted  him  a  long  time. 
He  looked  capable  of  everything,  but  the  fact  was  that 
he  had  done  nothing.  But  for  his  money  and  a  past 
consisting  of  thirty  years  of  idleness,  he  might  have 
been  the  happiest  dog  alive. 

'  The  best  government,"  said  one  of  the  three  men 
who  were  not  listening  to  the  piano,  "is  simply  the 
surest  method  for  putting  public  opinion  into  power." 

The  sentence  drifted  over  the  player's  shoulder  and 
Brahms  ended  with  a  crash. 

"  Balzac  said  that,"  he  cried,  rising  abruptly,  "  and 
said  it  better!  But,  good  heavens,  how  you  both  miss 
the  point !  Why,  let  me  tell  you." 

But  this  they  stoutly  declined  to  do.  Amid  laugh 
ter  and  protests  —  for  the  big  man's  hobbies  were 
well  known  to  the  club  —  two  of  them  sprang  up  in 
mock  terror,  and  headed  for  the  door.  They  indi 
cated  that  they  had  promised  each  other  to  play  bil 
liards  and  dared  not  break  the  engagement. 

"  I  could  n't  stay  to  the  end,  anyway,   Peter,"  ex- 


4          CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

plained  one,  from  the  door.  "  My  wife  sits  up  when 
I  'm  out  after  midnight.  Meet  me  here  for  break 
fast  some  bank-holiday,  and  we  '11  give  the  day  to  it." 

Maginnis,  who  never  got  over  feeling  disappointed 
when  he  saw  his  audience  slipping  away  from  him, 
sighed,  searched  through  his  frowzy  pockets  for  a 
match,  lit  his  pipe,  and  fell  upon  a  lounge  near  to  all 
the  society  that  was  left  him. 

"Why  weren't  you  up?"  said  this  society  pres 
ently. 

"  The  idea  of  dinner  was  repellent  to  me." 

'  To  you,  Peter  —  the  famous  trencherman  of  song 
and  story?  Why  this  unwonted  daintiness?" 

"  Lassitude.  Too  weary  to  climb  the  stairs.  Be 
sides,  I  was  n't  hungry." 

"  Ah,"  said  Reggie  Townes,  "  you  have  the  cave 
man's  idea  of  dinner,  I  see.  It  strikes  you  as  purely 
an  occasion  for  purveying  provender  to  man's  inte 
rior.  The  social  feature  eludes  you.  You  know 
what  I  think,  Peter?  You  ought  to  go  to  work." 

"Work!" 

"  That 's  the  word.     What  of  it?  " 

"  Not  a  thing.  The  idea  was  new  to  me ;  that 's 
all." 

"  Persiflage  and  all  that  aside,  why  don't  you  take 
a  stab  at  politics?  " 

"  Politics !  Here  in  New  York !  I  'd  sooner  go 
into  Avernus  of  the  easy  descent.  If  you  had  a  town 
to  run  all  by  yourself  now,  there  might  be  something 
in  it.  That  idea  of  yours  as  to  going  to  work,  while 
unquestionably  novel,  strikes  me  as  rather  clever." 


THE   CHIEF   CONSPIRATOR  5 

"  No  credit  belongs  to  me,"  said  Townes,  "  if  I 
happened  to  be  born  brilliant  instead  of  good- 
looking." 

"I'll  ponder  it,"  said  Peter;  and  stretching  out 
his  great  hand  with  a  gesture  which  banished  the  sub 
ject,  he  pushed  a  service  button  and  begged  Townes 
to  be  so  kind  as  to  name  his  poison. 

Outside  in  the  hall  a  voice  just  then  called  his  name, 
and  Maginnis  answered. 

A  young  man  in  evening  dress  strolled  through  the 
doorway,  a  tallish,  lithe  young  man  with  a  pleasant 
clean-cut  face  and  very  light  hair.  It  was  evident 
enough  that  he  patronized  a  good  tailor.  He  glanced 
at  the  two  men,  nodded  absently,  and  dropped  without 
speech  into  a  chair  near  the  door.  Townes  eyed  him 
somewhat  quizzically. 

"  Evening,  Larry.  A  little  introspective  to-night, 
yes?" 

Peter  said :  "  By  bull  luck  you  have  stumbled  into  a 
company  of  gentlemen  about  to  place  an  order.  Go 
ahead.  Mention  a  preference." 

The  young  man,  unseeing  eyes  on  Peter,  did  not 
answer.  Instead,  he  sprang  up,  as  though  struck  by  a 
thought  of  marked  interest  and  bolted  out  the  door. 
They  saw  him  vanish  into  the  telephone  booth  across 
the  hall  and  bang  the  glass  door  shut  behind  him. 

"  Forgot  an  engagement." 

"  You  mean  remembered  one,"  said  Peter. 

"  It  all  figures  out  to  the  same  answer,"  said 
Townes;  and  glancing  presently  at  his  watch,  he  an 
nounced  that  he  must  be  trotting  on. 


6  CAPTIVATING   MARY    CARSTAIRS 

"  But  I  've  ordered  something  for  you,  man." 

"  Varney  can  use  it,  can't  he  ?  " 

The  door  opened,  and  the  tallish  young  man  stood 
on  the  threshold  again,  this  time  social  and  affable. 
His  distraitness,  oddly  enough,  had  all  gone.  He 
greeted  the  two  in  the  smoking-room  as  though  he 
had  seen  them  for  the  first  time  that  evening;  ex 
pressed  his  pleasure  at  being  in  their  company;  in 
quired  after  their  healths  and  late  pursuits;  pressed 
cigarettes  upon  them. 

They  rallied  him  upon  his  furtive  movements  and 
fickle  demeanor,  but  drew  only  badinage  in  kind,  and 
no  explanations;  and  Townes,  laughing,  turned  to 
the  door. 

"  Dally  with  us  yet  a  little  while,  Reggie." 

"  No,  gentles,  no !  I  'm  starting  abroad  to-night 
and  have  already  dallied  too  long." 

"Abroad!" 

"  My  sister,"  said  Townes,  "  as  perhaps  you  don't 
know,  wedded  a  foreigner  —  Willy  Harcourt,  born 
and  raised  in  Brooklyn.  Therefore,  I  am  now  leaving 
to  go  to  a  party  in  Brooklyn.  Say  that  to  yourself 
slowly  —  '  a  party  in  Brooklyn ! '  Sounds  sort  of 
ominous,  doesn't  it?  If  the  worst  happens,  I  look  to 
you  fellows  to  break  it  to  my  mother.  Please  men 
tion  that  I  was  smiling  to  the  last." 

He  waved  a  farewell  and  disappeared  into  the  hall. 
Vamey  dropped  into  the  chair  Townes  had  left  empty, 
and  elevated  his  feet  to  the  lounge  where  sprawled  the 
length  of  Peter  Maginnis.  Peter  looked  up  and  the 
eyes  of  the  two  men  met. 


THE   CHIEF   CONSPIRATOR  7 

"  Well,  Laurence  ?     What  is  the  proposition  ?  " 

"Proposition?     What  do  you  mean?" 

"  An  ass,"  replied  Maginnis,  pumping  seltzer  into 
a  tall  glass,  "  could  see  that  you  have  something  on 
your  mind." 

Varney  pulled  a  match  from  the  little  metal  box- 
holder,  and  looked  at  him  with  reluctant  admiration. 
"  Sherlock  Holmes  Maginnis !  I  have  something  on 
my  mind.  A  friend  dropped  it  there  half  an  hour 
ago,  and  now  I  've  come  to  drop  it  on  yours."  He 
glanced  at  the  room's  two  doors  and  saw  that  both 
were  shut.  "  Time  is  short.  The  outfit  upstairs  may 
drift  in  any  minute.  Listen.  Do  you  recall  telling 
me  the  other  day,  with  tears  in  your  eyes,  that  you 
were  slowly  dying  for  something  new  and  interesting 
to  do?" 

Peter  nodded. 

"  I  think  of  your  pleasure,"  said  Varney,  "  always. 
By  looking  about  me  and  keeping  my  eyes  and  ears 
open  at  all  hours,  I  have  found  you  just  the  thing." 

"  New  and  interesting?  " 

"  There  are  men  in  this  town  who  would  run  them 
selves  to  death  trying  to  get  in  it  on  the  ground 
floor." 

Maginnis  shook  his  head. 

"  I  have  done  everything  in  this  world,"  he  said 
almost  sadly,  "  except,  I  may  say,  the  felonies." 

"  But  this,"  said  Varney,  "  is  a  felony." 

Struck  by  his  tone,  Peter  glanced  up.     "  Mean  it  ?  " 

"  Sure  thing." 

"As  I  remarked  before,  what  is  the  proposition?" 


8  CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  To  sum  it  all  up  in  a  word,"  said  Varney, 
"  there  's  a  job  of  kidnapping-  on  and  I  happened  to 
get  the  contract.  That 's  all  there  is  to  the  little 
trifle." 

Peter  swung  his  feet  around  to  the  floor,  and  sat  up. 
His  conviction  that  Varney  was  trying  to  be  funny 
died  hard. 

Varney  laughed.  "  I  need  a  pal,"  he  added.  "  Five 
minutes  ago  I  telephoned  and  got  permission  to  offer 
the  place  to  you." 

"  Stop  being  so  confounded  mysterious,"  Peter 
broke  out,  "  and  go  ahead !  " 

Varney  blew  smoke  thoughtfully  and  said,  "  I  will. 
In  fact,  that 's  what  I  came  for.  It  's  a  devil  of  a 
delicate  little  matter  to  talk  about  to  anybody,  as  it 
happens.  Of  course,  what  I  tell  you  must  never  go 
an  inch  further,  whether  you  come  along  or  not." 

"  Naturally." 

"  You  know  my  Uncle  Elbert  ?  " 

"Old  Carstairs?" 

Varney  nodded.  "  He  would  n't  thank  you  for  the 
adjective,  though.  I  got  the  contract  from  him.  By 
the  way,  he  's  not  my  uncle,  of  course ;  he  was  simply 
a  great  friend  of  my  mother's.  I  inherited  the  friend 
ship,  and  in  these  last  five  years  he  and  I  have  some 
how  managed  to  get  mighty  close  together.  Eight 
years  or  so  ago,"  he  continued,  "  as  you  may  or  may 
not  know,  Uncle  Elbert  and  his  wife  parted.  There 
was  n't  a  thing  the  matter,  I  believe,  except  that  they 
were  n't  hitting  it  off  particularly  well.  They  simply 
agreed  to  disagree.  Nouveau  riche,  and  all  that, 


THE    CHIEF   CONSPIRATOR  9 

wasn't  it?  Mrs.  Carstairs  has  some  money  of  her 
own.  She  picked  up,  packed  up,  walked  out,  bought 
a  place  up  the  river,  near  Hunston,  and  has  lived  there 
ever  since." 

Peter  looked  up  quickly.  "  Hunston  ?  Ha !  But 
fire  away." 

"  She  and  Uncle  Elbert  have  stayed  pretty  good 
friends  all  through  it.  They  exchange  letters  now  and 
then,  and  once  or  twice  when  she  has  been  in  the  city, 
I  believe  they  have  met  —  though  not  in  recent  years. 
My  private  suspicion  is  that  she  has  never  entirely 
got  over  being  in  love  with  him.  Anyhow,  there  's 
their  general  relationship  in  a  nutshell  —  parted  but 
friendly.  It  might  have  stayed  just  like  that  till  they 
were  both  in  their  graves,  but  for  one  accidental  com 
plication.  There  is  a  child." 

"  I  seem  to  remember,"  said  Peter.     "  A  little  boy." 

"  On  the  contrary.  A  little  girl.  Uncle  Elbert," 
said  Varney,  "  is  a  bit  of  a  social  butterfly.  Mrs.  Car- 
stairs  is  an  earnest  domestic  character.  As  I  gather, 
that  was  what  they  clashed  on  —  the  idea  of  what  a 
home  ought  to  be.  When  the  split  came,  Mrs.  Car- 
stairs  took  the  child  and  Uncle  Elbert  was  willing 
enough  to  have  her  do  it.  That  was  natural  enough. 
Peter.  He  had  his  friends  and  his  clubs  and  his  little 
dinners,  and  he  was  no  more  competent  to  raise  a  girl 
baby  than  you  are,  which  is  certainly  going  some  for 
a  comparison.  I  suppose  the  fact  was  that  he  was  glad 
to  be  free  of  the  responsibility.  But  it 's  mighty  dif 
ferent  now. 

"  You    see,"    said    Varney,    lighting    one    cigarette 


io         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

from  another  and  throwing  the  old  one  away,  "  he 
must  be  pretty  lonely  all  by  himself  in  that  big  house 
of  his.  On  top  of  that  he  's  getting  old  and  is  n't  in 
very  good  health.  Explain  it  any  way  you  like.  The 
simple  fact  is  that  within  this  last  year  or  so,  it  's 
gradually  gotten  to  be  a  kind  of  obsession  with  him,  an 
out-and-out,  down-and-out  monomania,  to  know  that 
kid  —  to  have  her  come  and  spend  part  of  every  year 
with  him.  That 's  natural,  too,  I  should  say." 

"  H'm.     Mrs.  Carstairs  sticks  to  her  like  fly-paper, 
I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  She  admits  Uncle  Elbert's  rights  and 
is  entirely  willing  to  let  him  have  Mary —  for  such  is 
our  little  heroine's  name  —  for  part  of  the  time.  It  is 
the  child  who  is  doing  the  fly-paper  business.  The 
painful  fact  is  that  she  declines  to  have  anything  what 
ever  to  do  with  her  father.  Invitations,  commands, 
entreaties  —  she  spurns  them  all.  Yes,  I  asked  him 
if  they  had  tried  spanking,  but  he  didn't  answer  — 
seemed  rather  miffed,  in  fact.  The  child  simply  will 
not  come,  and  that  is  point  number  one.  Now,  of 
course,  Uncle  Elbert  realizes  that  he  has  not  been 
what  the  world  would  call  a  good  father.  And  he  has 
figured  it  out  that  Mary,  evidently  a  young  precocity, 
has  judged  him,  found  him  guilty,  and  sentenced  him 
to  banishment  from  her  affections.  That  hurts,  you 
know.  Well,  he  is  certain  that  if  he  could  once  see 
her  and  be  thrown  with  her  for  a  few  days,  she  would 
find  that  he  is  not  such  an  old  ogre,  after  all,  would 
take  him  back  as  a  father,  as  we  might  say,  and  that 
after  that  everything  would  be  plain  sailing.  That 's 


THE   CHIEF   CONSPIRATOR  n 

his  theory.  The  point  is  how  to  see  her  and  be  thrown 
with  her  for  the  necessary  few  days." 

"  Why  does  n't  he  get  on  the  train  and  go  to  Hun- 
ston?  Or,  if  Mrs.  Carstairs  is  really  so  decent  about 
the  thing,  why  does  n't  she  get  on  the  train  and  bring 
Mary  down  here?" 

"  Good.  I  put  both  of  those  up  to  him,  and  they 
seemed  to  embarrass  him  a  little.  I  gathered  that  he 
had  suggested  them  both  to  Mrs.  Carstairs,  and  that 
she  had  turned  them  down  hard.  The  ground  seemed 
delicate.  You  see,  we  must  allow  for  the  personal 
equation  in  all  this.  No  matter  where  they  met,  he 
could  n't  hang  around  the  house  getting  acquainted 
with  Mary  without  coming  into  sort  of  intimate 
contact  with  Mrs.  Carstairs,  and  giving  a  kind  of 
domestic  touch  to  their  relations.  You  see  how  that 
is.  She  wants  to  be  fair  and  generous  about  it,  but  if 
she  is  in  love  with  him,  that  would  be  a  little  more 
than  flesh  and  blood  could  bear,  I  suppose.  Then,  as  I 
say,  there  is  the  pig-headedness  of  the  child.  Anyway, 
Uncle  Elbert  assures  me  that  both  those  plans  are 
simply  out  of  the  question.  So  there  is  the  situation. 
Mary  won't  come  to  see  him  by  herself.  Mrs.  Car- 
stairs  won't  bring  Mary  to  see  him,  and  she  won't 
let  him  come  to  see  Mary.  Well,  what  remains?" 

Peter  said  nothing.  In  a  room  overhead  a  mani 
festly  improvised  quartet  struck  up  "  Should  Auld 
Acquaintance  be  Forgot?"  with  great  enthusiasm. 

'  You  see  there  is  only  one  thing.  The  old  gentle 
man,"  said  Varney,  "  has  brooded  over  the  matter 
till  it 's  broken  him  all  up.  He  was  in  bed  when  I  was 


there  just  now.  He  asked  me  to  go  to  Hunston  and 
bring  his  daughter  to  him.  I  told  him  that  kidnapping 
was  a  little  out  of  my  line.  '  Kidnapping  is  rather  a 
harsh  word,'  he  said.  '  Yes,'  said  I,  '  it 's  a  criminal 
word,  I  believe.'  But  —  " 

Peter  looked  up,  interrupting.  "  Is  this  all 
straight?  Is  that  really  what  he  wants  you  to  do?" 

"  Naturally,  Peter.  Why  not  ?  You  cling  to  the 
theory  that  such  heroic  measures  are  entirely  unnec 
essary?  So  did  I  till  I  had  threshed  the  whole  thing 
up  and  down  with  Uncle  Elbert  for  an  hour  and  a 
half,  trying  to  suggest  some  alternative  that  didn't 
look  so  silly.  Kindly  get  the  facts  well  into  your 
head,  will  you?  The  man  must  pursue  Mary's  affec 
tion  either  there  or  here,  mustn't  he?  He  can't  do 
it  there  because  his  wife  won't  let  him.  In  order  to 
do  it  here,  one  would  say  offhand  that  Mary  would 
have  to  be  here,  and  since  her  mother  declines  to 
bring  her,  it  does  look  to  me  as  if  the  job  would 
have  to  be  done  by  somebody  else.  However,  if  my 
logic  is  wrong,  kindly  let  your  powerful  —  " 

"  I  don't  say  it 's  wrong.  I  merely  say  that  it 
sounds  like  a  cross  between  a  modern  pork-king's 
divorce  suit  and  a  seventeenth  century  peccadillo." 

"  And  I  reply  that  I  don't  care  a  hoot  how  it  sounds. 
The  only  question  of  any  interest  to  me,  Peter,  is 
whether  or  not  Uncle  Elbert  has  a  moral  right  to  a 
share  in  his  own  child.  I  say  that  he  has  such  a  right, 
and  I  say  further  that  this  is  the  only  way  in  the 
world  that  he  can  assert  his  right.  Oh,  hang  how  it 
sounds !  I  'm  the  nearest  thing  to  a  son  that  he  has 


THE   CHIEF   CONSPIRATOR  13 

in  this  world,  and  I  mean  for  him  to  have  his  rights. 
So  —  " 

"Very  fine,"  said  Peter  dryly.  "But  what's  the 
matter  with  Carstairs  getting  his  rights  for  himself? 
Why  does  n't  he  sneak  up  there  and  pull  the  thing 
off  on  his  own?" 

Varney  laughed.  "  Evidently  you  don't  know  Uncle 
Elbert,  after  all.  He  's  as  temperamentally  unfit  to 
carry  through  a  job  of  this  sort  as  a  hysterical  old 
lady.  Besides,  even  though  they  have  n't  met  for  so 
long,  I  suppose  his  own  daughter  would  recognize 
him,  would  n't  she  ?  I  never  gave  that  idea  a  thought. 
Like  his  wife,  he  says  he  wants  to  have  nothing  what 
ever  to  do  with  it.  In  fact,  I  made  him  put  that  in  the 
form  of  a  promise  —  he  's  to  give  me  an  absolutely 
free  hand,  subject  to  the  conditions,  and  not  interfere 
in  any  way.  In  return  I  ended  by  swearing  a  great 
iron-clad  oath  not  only  to  go,  but  to  bring  the  child 
back  with  me.  The  swear  was  Uncle  Elbert's  idea, 
and  I  did  n't  mind.  Confound  it !  —  this  is  getting 
rather  intimate,  but  here  is  Mrs.  Carstairs's  letter  giv 
ing  a  partial  consent  to  the  thing.  It  just  got  in  this 
afternoon;  he  sent  for  me  the  minute  he'd  read  it, 
I  believe,  and  I  never  saw  a  man  more  excited." 

He  pulled  a  scrawled  and  crossed  note-sheet  from 
his  pocket,  and  read  in  a  guarded  and  slightly  em 
barrassed  voice: 

HUNSTON,  25th  of  September. 

MY  DEAR  ELBERT,  —  I  hardly  know  how  to  answer 
you,  though  I  have  been  over  and  over  the  whole  subject 
on  my  knees.  As  you  know,  if  I  could  send  Mary  to  you, 


14 

I  would,  sadly  as  I  should  miss  her,  for  the  wish  lies 
close  to  my  heart  to  have  her  know  her  father.  But  she 
will  not  hear  of  leaving  me  and  there  is  an  end  of  that. 
What  you  suggest  is  so  new  and  so  dreadful  in  many 
ways  that  it  is  very  hard  to  consent  to  it.  Of  course,  I 
realize  that  it  is  not  right  for  me  to  have  her  always. 
But  the  utmost  I  can  bring  myself  to  say  is  that  if  you  can 
succeed  in  what  you  propose  I  will  do  nothing  to  inter 
fere  with  you,  and  will  see  that  there  is  no  scandal  here 
afterwards.  Of  course,  I  am  to  have  no  part  in  it,  and 
no  force  is  to  be  used,  and  everything  is  to  be  made  as 
agreeable  for  her  as  is  possible  under  the  circumstances. 
Oh,  I  am  miserable  and  doubtful  about  the  whole  thing, 
but  pray  and  trust  that  it  is  for  the  best,  and  that  she  will 
find  some  way  to  forgive  me  for  it  afterwards. 

A.   E.   C. 

"  H'in.  No  force  is  to  be  used,"  said  Peter. 
"  May  I  ask  just  how  you  expect  to  get  Mary  on  the 
choo-choo  ?  " 

"  Now  we  are  getting  to  the  meat  of  the  matter," 
said  Varney.  "  We  shall  not  have  to  get  Mary  on  the 
choo-choo  at  all.  We  are  going  to  use  a  yacht,  which 
will  be  far  more  private  and  pleasant,  and  also  far 
easier  to  get  people  on.  Uncle  Elbert's  Cypriani  lies 
in  the  harbor  at  this  moment,  ready  to  start  anywhere 
at  half  a  day's  notice.  It  will  start  for  Hunston  to 
morrow  afternoon,  with  me  on  board.  I  '11  need  an 
other  man  to  put  the  thing  through  right,  and  I  'd 
rather  trust  a  friend  than  a  servant.  So  would  Uncle 
Elbert.  When  I  came  in  here  just  now,  I  was  at  once 
taken  with  your  looks  for  the  part,  and  I  have  been 
authorized  by  'phone  to  give  you  first  refusal  on  this 
great  chance." 


THE   CHIEF   CONSPIRATOR  15 

Peter  said  nothing.  Varney  feared  that  he  looked 
rather  bored. 

"  At  first,"  he  went  on  promptly,  "  I  '11  confess  that 
I  did  n't  see  so  much  in  the  thing.  But  the  more  I  've 
thought  of  it  the  more  its  unique  charm  has  appealed 
to  me.  It  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  novel, 
piquant  little  adventure.  Exactly  the  sort  of  thing  to 
attract  a  man  who  likes  to  take  a  sporting  chance. 
Look  at  the  difficulties  of  it.  Go  to  a  strange  town 
where  there  are  thousands  and  millions  of  strange 
children,  locate  Mary,  isolate  her,  make  friends  with 
her,  coax  her  to  the  yacht  —  captivate  her,  capture 
her!  How  are  we  to  do  all  that,  you  ask?  I  reply, 
the  Lord  knows.  That  is  where  the  sport  comes  in. 
We  are  forbidden  to  use  force.  We  are  forbidden  to 
use  Airs.  Carstairs  or  bring  her  into  it  in  any  way. 
We  are  forbidden,  of  course,  to  let  the  child  know  who 
we  are.  Everything  must  be  done  by  almost  diabolical 
craft,  while  dodging  suspicion  at  every  step.  Can  you 
beat  it  for  a  fascinating  little  expedition?" 

Peter  relit  his  pipe  and  meditatively  dropped  the 
match  on  the  floor.  "  How  old  is  Mary?  " 

"Old?"  said  Varney,  surprised  at  the  question, 
"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  The  separation  took  place  — 
h'm  —  say  eight  years  ago,  and  my  guess  is  that  she 
was  about  four  at  the  time.  From  this  and  the  way 
Uncle  Elbert  spoke  of  her,  I  daresay  twelve  would  hit 
it  fair  and  square.  A  grand  age  for  kidnapping, 
what?" 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Peter,  "  it  makes  it  mere 
baby-work.  Turn  it  over  as  you  will,  it  all  boils  down 
to  spanking  a  naughty  child." 


1 6         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  Never!  Think  of  slipping  a  cog-  in  our  plans — • 
making  a  false  start,  having  somebody  get  on  to  us ! 
Why,  man,  there  may  be  jail  for  us  both  in  this !  " 

He  examined  Peter's  face  hopefully,  but  found 
unaffected  apathy  there. 

"  Suppose,"  he  cried  boastfully,  "  that  the  Associ 
ated  Press  got  on  to  it!  Think  of  the  disgrace  of 
it!  'Millionaire  Maginnis  Caught  Kidnapping!' 
Think  of  being  fired  from  the  Curzon  and  having  to 
leave  New  York  a  hunted  and  broken  man!  Think," 
he  added  in  an  inspired  climax,  "  of  having  your 
photograph  in  the  Sunday  Herald! " 

Maginnis  perked  up  visibly  at  this.  '  There  is  no 
chance  of  that  really,  do  you  think?" 

"  None  in  the  world,"  said  Varney  desperately. 

He  felt  sure  that  this  had  cost  him  Peter,  whom  he 
had  come  to  as  his  oldest  and  best  friend.  Having 
no  idea  whom  he  could  turn  to  next,  he  rose,  tenta 
tively,  and  for  the  moral  effect,  to  go. 

"  After  all,"  he  said  aloud,  "  I  have  another  man  in 
my  mind  who  would,  on  second  thoughts,  suit  me 
better." 

"  Oh,  sit  down !  "  cried  Peter,  impatiently. 

Larry  sat  down.  His  face  showed,  in  spite  of  him, 
how  really  anxious  he  was  to  have  Peter  go.  There 
was  a  brief  pause. 

"  Since  you  are  so  crazy  to  have  me,"  said  Peter, 
"  I  '11  go." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Varney.  He  picked  up  his 
glass,  which  he  had  hitherto  not  touched,  drained  it  at 
a  gulp  and  pushed  the  bell  vigorously.  "  I  knew,"  he 


THE   CHIEF   CONSPIRATOR  17 

cried,  "  that  you  'd  see  the  possibilities  when  once  your 
brain  began  to  work." 

Peter's  faint  smile  was  an  insult  in  its  way.  "  Three 
things  have  decided  me  to  go  with  you,  old  son,  and 
none  of  them  has  anything  to  do  writh  your  possibilities. 
The  first  is  that  I  'm  the  one  man  in  a  million  you  really 
need  in  case  of  trouble." 

"  Peter,  your  modesty  is  your  curse." 

"  The  second  is  —  did  you  read  the  Sun  this  morn 
ing?  It  seems  that  this  little  town  of  Hunston  is 
having  a  violent  spasm  of  politics  right  now.  Rather 
lucky  coincidence,  I  should  say.  The  dispatch  I  read 
was  pretty  vague,  but  I  gather  that  there  's  an  inter 
esting  fight  on  between  a  strong  machine  and  a  small 
but  firm  reform  movement." 

"  Ha !  Occupation  for  you  while  I  beat  the  woods 
for  little  Mary." 

"  I  '11  need  it." 

"  Well,  what  was  your  other  wonderful  reason  ?  " 

"  Don't  you  know  ?  It  is  that  sixty  horse-power 
oath  your  uncle  made  you  swear." 

"  Because  it  committed  me,  you  mean?  " 

The  door  opened,  men  entered  noisily,  and  Peter 
had  to  draw  Varney  aside  to  explain  darkly :  "  Be 
cause  it  committed  me  to  wondering  what  difficulties 
foxy  old  Carstairs  made  a  point  of  concealing  from 
you." 

"  Meet  me  upstairs  in  ten  minutes,"  said  Varney, 
"  and  we  '11  talk  about  plans." 


CHAPTER    II 

THEY    EMBARK    UPON    A    CRIME 

Varney  was  wrong  in  one  thing:  Mr.  Carstairs's 
Cypriani  was  not  ready  to  start  anywhere  at  half  a 
day's  notice.  For  that  reason  it  did  not  start  for 
Hunston  on  the  following  afternoon.  As  always  hap 
pens,  the  preparations  for  the  little  expedition  took 
four  times  as  long  as  anybody  would  have  thought 
possible. 

For  these  delays  no  blame  could  be  attached  to 
Peter  Maginnis.  He  had  no  getting  ready  to  do  be 
yond  bidding  his  father's  man  to  pack  him  for  a  week, 
and  obtaining  from  his  hatter's,  at  an  out-of-season 
cut-price,  an  immense  and  peculiar  Panama  with  an 
offensive  plaid  band.  Possibly  it  was  the  only  hat  of 
its  kind  in  the  world.  One  might  picture  the  manu 
facturer  as  having  it  made  up  as  an  experiment,  be 
coming  morose  when  he  looked  at  it,  and  ordering  his 
superintendent  to  make  no  more  like  it  at  the  peril 
of  his  life. 

Peter,  however,  was  delighted  with  it.  Gazing  at 
himself  with  smirking  satisfaction  in  the  hat-shop 
mirror,  he  ordered  the  old  one  sent  home  and  was  all 
ready  to  go  to  Hunston  and  kidnap  Mary  Carstairs. 

But  other  preparations  could  not  be  completed  with 


THEY   EMBARK   UPON  A   CRIME          19 

such  speedy  satisfaction.  The  yacht  had  to  coal,  take 
on  supplies,  and  pick  up  two  or  three  extra  men  for 
the  crew.  A  Sunday  came  in  and  threw  everything 
back  a  day.  Lastly  the  sailing-master's  wife,  whom 
Mr.  Carstairs  was  sending  along  to  take  charge  of 
Mary  on  the  homeward  trip,  chanced  to  be  down  with 
an  influenza. 

As  the  details  of  getting  ready  multiplied  about  him, 
Varney's  interest  in  his  novel  undertaking  impercep 
tibly  grew.  The  thing  had  come  upon  him  so  un 
expectedly  that  it  had  not  yet  by  any  means  lost  its 
strangeness.  To  the  old  friend  of  his  mother's  girl 
hood,  Elbert  Carstairs,  he  was  sincerely  devoted, 
though  knowing  him  for  an  indulgent  man  whose 
indulgences  were  chiefly  of  himself.  But  when,  re 
sponding  to  his  excited  summons  that  night,  he  had 
sat  and  listened  while  Mr.  Carstairs  unfolded  his  mad 
little  domestic  plot,  he  had  been  first  utterly  amazed 
and  then  utterly  repelled.  And  it  was  not  until  a  final 
sense  of  the  old  man's  genuine  need  was  borne  in  upon 
him,  of  his  loneliness,  his  helplessness,  and  his  entire 
dependence  upon  him,  Varney,  that  he  had  consented 
to  undertake  the  extraordinary  commission. 

In  a  sense,  it  was  all  simply  preposterous.  Here  was 
he,  Laurence  Varney,  in  sane  mind,  of  law-abiding 
habits  and  hitherto  of  tolerable  standing  in  the  com 
munity,  solemnly  pledged  to  go  and  steal  the  person 
of  a  child,  in  defiance  and  contempt  of  the  statutes  of 
all  known  nations.  And  the  place  where  this  lawless 
deed  was  to  be  done  was  not  Ruritania  or  the  hazy 
dominions  of  Prince  Otto,  but  a  commonplace,  hum- 


20         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

drum  American  town,  not  an  hour  and  a  half  from 
his  office  chair  by  the  expresses. 

In  going  about  this  task  he  was  to  conduct  himself 
with  the  frankness  and  straightforwardness  of  a 
sneak-thief.  Not  a  soul  in  New  York  was  to  know 
where  he  had  gone.  Not  a  soul  in  Hunston  must 
dimly  suspect  what  he  had  come  for.  It  must  be  gum 
shoe  work  from  start  to  finish,  and  the  Cypriani's 
motto  would  be  the  inspiring  word,  "  Sh-h-h." 
Though  he  had  to  find  a  nondescript  child  whom  he 
did  not  know  from  Eve,  he  was  forbidden  to  do  it  in 
a  natural,  easy,  and  dashing  way.  He  could  not  ring 
her  mother's  door-bell,  ask  for  her,  throw  a  meal-sack 
over  her  head,  and  whip  his  waiting  horses  to  a  gallop. 
No,  he  must  beat  the  tall  grasses  before  the  old  home 
stead  until  such  time  as  she  chose  to  walk  abroad 
alone.  Really,  when  you  came  to  think  of  it,  it  was 
an  asinine  sort  of  proposition. 

But  when  Mary  did  come  out  of  that  house,  he  saw 
that  the  fun  would  begin.  A  well  brought-up,  mon 
eyed,  petted  and  curled  girl  of  twelve  was  no  easy 
pawn  in  anybody's  game.  He  could  not  win  her 
love  by  a  mere  offer  of  gum-drops.  In  fact,  getting 
acquainted  was  likely  to  be  a  difficult  matter,  taxing 
his  ingenuity  to  a  standstill.  But  he  entertained  no 
doubts  of  his  ability  to  do  it,  sooner  or  later. 

"  Not  to  put  too  fine  a  point  on  it,"  mused  he, 
glancing  out  of  his  twentieth  story  window,  "  they 
flock  to  me,  children  do.  I  'm  their  good  old  Uncle 
Dudley.  But  why  the  deuce  is  n't  she  five  years 
younger? " 


THEY   EMBARK   UPON   A   CRIME          21 

Clearly,  it  was  the  next  step  that  was  the  most 
delicate:  getting  Mary  aboard  the  yacht.  This  was 
both  the  crux  and  the  finale  of  the  whole  thing:  for 
Uncle  Elbert  was  to  be  waiting  for  them,  in  a  closed 
carriage,  at  a  private  dock  near  i3Oth  Street  (Peter 
remaining  in  Htmston  to  notify  him  by  telephone  of 
the  start  down),  and  Varney's  responsibilities  were 
over  when  the  Cypriani  turned  her  nose  homeward. 
But  here  lay  the  thin  ice.  If  anything  should  happen 
to  go  wrong  at  the  moment  when  they  were  coaxing 
Mary  on  the  yacht,  if  there  was  a  leak  in  their  plans 
or  anybody  suspected  anything,  he  saw  that  the  situa 
tion  might  be  exceedingly  awkward.  The  penalties 
for  being  fairly  caught  with  the  goods  promised  to 
be  severe.  As  to  kidnapping,  he  certainly  remembered 
reading  in  the  newspapers  that  some  States  punished 
it  with  death.  At  any  rate,  maybe  the  natives  would 
try  to  thrash  him  and  Peter.  In  hopeful  moments  he 
conjured  up  visions  of  the  deuce  to  pay. 

But,  after  all,  he  was  going  to  Hunston,  whether  he 
liked  it  or  not,  simply  because  Uncle  Elbert  had  asked 
him.  The  lonely  old  gentleman,  he  knew,  loved  him 
like  a  son :  he  had  turned  straight  to  him  in  his  hour 
of  need.  This  had  touched  the  young  man,  and  had 
finally  made  up  his  mind  for  him.  Moreover  Mary, 
a  spoiled  little  piece  who  was  suffered  to  set  her  smug 
childish  will  against  the  combined  wills  of  both  her 
parents,  aroused  his  keenest  antipathy.  To  put  her  in 
her  place,  to  teach  her  that  children  must  obey  their 
parents  in  the  Lord,  was  a  duty  to  society,  to  the  State. 
What  Uncle  Elbert  wanted  with  such  a  child,  he  could 


22         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

not  conceive;  but  since  he  did  want  her,  have  her 
he  should.  Tilting  back  his  office  chair  and  running 
his  hand  through  his  hair,  Varney  longed  to  spank 
her. 

This  thought  came  to  him,  definitely  and  for  about 
the  seventh  time,  at  half-past  one  o'clock  on  the  third 
day,  Monday.  At  the  same  moment,  his  telephone-bell 
rang  sharply.  It  was  the  sailing-master  to  say  that  his 
good  "spouse  had  come  aboard  and  that  everything  on 
the  Cypriani  was  in  readiness  for  the  start. 

"  I  '11  be  on  board  inside  of  an  hour,"  said  Varney. 

He  telephoned  to  Uncle  Elbert,  telephoned  to  Peter, 
and  locked  up  his  desk.  To  his  office  he  casually  gave 
out  that  pressing  business  matters  were  calling  him 
out  of  town  for  a  day  or  two. 

The  two  young  men  had  been  as  furtive  as  possible 
about  their  proposed  journey.  They  had  not  met 
since  the  night  Varney  had  dangled  the  hope  of  jail 
and  disgrace  into  Peter's  lightening  face,  and  so,  or 
otherwise,  cajoled  him  into  going  along.  Both  of 
them  had  kept  carefully  away  from  the  Cypriani. 
Now  they  proceeded  to  her  by  different  routes,  and 
reached  her  at  different  times,  Peter  first.  Their  lug 
gage  had  gone  aboard  before  them,  and  there  was 
no  longer  a  thing  to  wait  for.  At  three  o'clock,  on 
Varney's  signal,  the  ship's  bell  sounded,  her  whistle 
shrieked,  and  she  slid  off  through  the  waters  of  the 
bay. 

About  the  start  there  was  nothing  in  the  least  dra 
matic  :  they  had  merely  begun  moving  through  the 
water  and  that  was  all.  The  Cypriani,  for  all  her  odd 


THEY   EMBARK   UPON  A   CRIME          23 

errand,  was  merely  one  of  a  thousand  boats  which  in 
differently  crossed  each  other's  wakes  in  one  of  the 
most  crowded  harbors  in  the  world. 

"  For  all  the  lime-light  we  draw,"  observed  Magin- 
nis,  drinking  in  the  freshening  breeze,  "  we  might  be 
running  up  to  Harlem  to  address  the  fortnightly  meet 
ing  of  a  Girls'  Friendly  Society." 

Varney  said:    "Give  us  a  chance,  will  you?" 


CHAPTER    III 

THEY    ARRIVE    IN     HUNSTON     AND     FALL    IN     WITH     A 
STRANGER 

The  landscape  near  Hunston,  as  it  happened,  was 
superfluously  pretty.  It  deserved  a  group  of  resident 
artists  to  admire  and  to  catch  it  upon  canvas ;  and  it 
had,  roughly  speaking,  only  artisans  out  of  a  job. 
The  one  blot  was  the  town,  sprawling  hideously  over 
the  hillside.  Set  down  against  the  perennial  wood, 
by  the  side  of  the  everlasting  river,  it  looked  very 
cheap  and  common.  But  all  this  was  by  day.  Now 
night  fell  upon  the  poor  little  city  and  mercifully  hid 
it  from  view. 

They  had  made  the  start  too  late  for  hurry  to  be 
any  object.  It  was  only  a  three  hours'  run  for  the 
Cypriani,  but  she  took  it  slowly,  using  four.  At  half- 
past  six  o'clock,  when  their  destination  was  drawing 
near,  the  two  men  went  below  and  dined.  At  seven, 
while  they  were  still  at  table,  they  heard  the  slow 
down  signal,  and,  a  moment  later,  the  rattle  of  the 
anchor  line.  Now,  at  quarter-past  seven,  Varney 
lounged  alone  by  the  starboard  rail  and  acquainted 
himself  with  the  purview. 

They  had  run  perhaps  quarter  of  a  mile  above  the 
town,  for  reasons  which  he  had  not  communicated  to 


THEY  ARRIVE   IN   HUNSTON  25 

the  sailing-master  in  transmitting  his  orders.  One  was 
that  they  might  be  removed  somewhat  from  native 
curiosity.  The  other  was,  they  might  be  near  the 
Carstairs  residence,  which  was  up  this  way  somewhere. 
So,  between  the  yacht  and  the  town  lay  hill  and  wood 
intervening.  The  Cypriani,  so  to  say,  had  anchored 
in  the  country.  Only  a  light  glimmering  here  and 
there  through  the  trees  indicated  the  nearness  of  man's 
abode. 

A  soporific  quality  lurked  in  the  quiet  solitude,  and 
Varney,  sunk  in  a  deck-chair,  yawned.  They  had  de 
cided  at  dinner  that  they  would  do  nothing  that  night 
but  go  to  bed,  for  it  seemed  plain  that  there  was  noth 
ing  else  to  do :  little  girls  did  not  ramble  abroad  alone 
after  dark.  Up  the  companion-way  and  over  the 
glistening  after-deck  strolled  Peter,  an  eye-catching 
figure  in  the  flooding  moonlight.  For,  retiring  to  his 
stateroom  from  the  table,  he  had  divested  himself  of 
much  raiment  and  encased  his  figure  in  a  great  purple 
bathrobe.  He  \vas  a  man  who  loved  to  be  comfort 
able,  was  Peter.  Topping  the  robe,  he  wore  his  new 
Panama.  Varney  looked  around  at  the  sound  of  foot 
steps,  and  was  considerably  struck  by  his  friend's 
appearance. 

"  Feeling  well,  old  man  ?  "  he  asked  with  solici 
tude. 

"  Certainly." 

"  Not  seasick  at  all  ?  You  won't  let  me  fetch  you 
Hie  hot-water  bottle?" 

"  No,  ass." 

Peter   sank   down   in   an   upholstered   wicker  chair 


26         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

with  pillows  in  it,  and  looked  out  appreciatively  at 
the  night.  The  yacht's  lights  were  set,  but  her  deck 
bulbs  hung  dark ;  for  the  soft  and  shimmering  radi 
ance  of  the  sky  made  man's  illumination  an  offense. 

However,  aesthetics,  like  everything  else,  has  its 
place  in  human  economy  and  no  more.  No  one  aboard 
the  Cypriani  became  so  absorbed  in  the  marvels  of 
nature  as  to  become  insensible  to  other  pleasures.  The 
air,  new  and  fine  from  the  hands  of  its  Maker,  ac 
quired  a  distinct  flavor  of  nicotine  as  it  flitted  past 
the  yacht.  From  some  hidden  depth  rose  the  subdued 
and  convalescent  snores  of  that  early  retirer,  the 
sailing-master's  wife.  Below  forward,  two  deck 
hands  were  thoughtfully  playing  set-back  for  pennies, 
while  a  machinist  sat  by  and  read  a  sporting  extra  by 
a  swinging  bulb.  Above  forward,  on  a  coil  of  rope, 
McTosh,  the  head  steward  and  one  of  Mr.  Carstairs's 
oldest  servants,  smoked  a  bad  pipe,  and  expectorated 
stoically  into  the  Hudson. 

The  thought  of  the  essential  commonplaceness  of  this 
sort  of  thing  recurred  to  Peter  Maginnis.  For  all  his 
life  of  idleness,  which  was,  as  it  were,  accidental, 
Peter  was  essentially  a  man  of  action;  and  life's 
sedentary  movements  irked  him  sorely. 

"  Who  is  the  individual  monkeying  around  at  the 
bow?"  he  asked  presently. 

"  It  is  Mr.  Bissett,  the  ship's  engineer,  who  is  put 
ting  a  coat  of  white  lead  over  the  yacht's  name." 

"  Aha !  Are  n't  we  old-sleuthy,  though !  And 
what 's  that  piece  of  stage-play  for?  " 


THEY   ARRIVE   IN   HUNSTON  27 

"  All  these  little  hookers,"  said  Varney,  "  are  listed 
in  a  book,  which  many  persons  own.  Why  have  the 
local  press  tell  everybody  to-morrow  that  the  yacht 
Cypriani  belonging  to  Mr.  Carstairs,  husband  once- 
removed  to  our  own  Mrs.  Elbert  Carstairs,  is  anchored 
off  these  shores?  " 

"  It  seems,"  said  Peter,  "  like  a  lot  of  smoke  for 
such  a  little  fire." 

He  got  up  and  sprawled  on  the  rail,  his  yellow 
Panama  pulled  far  over  his  eyes,  his  gaze  fixed  on  the 
shining  water. 

"  First  and  last,  I  've  seen  rivers  in  my  time,"  he 
said  presently,  "  big  and  little,  pretty  and  not,  clean 
and  soiled,  decent  and  indecent.  Yes,  boy,"  said  he, 
"  you  can  take  it  from  me  that  I  Ve  seen  the  world's 
darnedest  in  the  matter  of  rivers,  and  I  have  liked 
them  all  from  Ganges  to  the  Sacramento  and  back 
again.  There  was  a  time  when  I  did  n't  have  that 
sort  of  personal  feeling  for  'em,  but  a  little  chap  up 
in  Canada,  he  helped  me  to  the  light.  He  was  the 
keenest  on  rivers  I  ever  knew." 

He  broke  off  to  yawn  greatly,  started  to  resume, 
thought  better  of  it,  checked  himself,  and  presently 
said  in  an  absent  voice: 

"  No,  that 's  too  long  to  tell." 

"  There  's  two  hours  till  bedtime." 

Peter  straightened  and  began  strolling  aimlessly 
about  the  deck,  half  regretting  that  they  had  decided 
to  spend  the  evening  on  the  yacht.  Varney  looked 
after  him  with  a  certain  sense  of  guilt.  Against  this 
background  of  quiet  night  and  moonlit  peace,  his  en- 


28         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

terprise  began  to  look  very  small  and  easy.  A  ramble 
through  the  pleasant  woods  over  there,  a  little  girl 
met  and  played  with,  a  leisurely  stroll  hand-in-hand 
clown  a  woodland  path  to  the  yacht  —  was  it  for  this 
that  he  had  begged  the  assistance  of  Peter  Maginnis, 
of  the  large  administrative  abilities  and  the  teeming 
energies?  Varney  began  to  be  a  little  ashamed  of 
himself.  To  follow  out  Peter's  own  figure,  it  ap 
peared  that  he  had  called  out  the  fire  department  to 
help  him  put  out  a  smoking  sheet  of  note-paper  on  a 
hearth. 

Soon,  in  one  of  his  goings  and  comings,  Peter 
halted.  "  There  was  another  Hunston  dispatch  in  the 
paper  this  morning,"  he  vouchsafed. 

"Politics?" 

"  Said  the  reform  movement  was  a  joke." 

"Good  one?" 

"  Good  movement,  you  mean?  " 

"  No  —  good  joke." 

"  No  reform  movement  is  ever  a  good  joke,  under 
any  circumstances  whatsoever.  Where  it  appears  a 
joke  at  all,  it  is  the  kind  that  would  appeal  only  to 
pinheads  of  the  dottiest  nature." 

"  I  see." 

"  I  'm  going  up  there  to-morrow,"  said  Peter, 
nodding  toward  the  town,  "  and  look  into  it  a  little. 
If  there  is  time,  I  may  even  decide  to  show  these  fel 
lows  how  a  reform  proposition  ought  to  be  handled 
to  ensure  results." 

Far  off  on  the  hill  a  single  light  twinkled  through 
the  trees,  very  yellow  against  the  pale  moonlight. 


THEY  ARRIVE   IN   HUNSTON  29 

Varney's  eye  fell  upon  it  and  absently  held  it.  It  was 
Mary  Carstairs's  light,  though,  of  course,  he  had  no 
means  of  knowing  that. 

Presently  Peter  lolled  around  and  looked  at  him. 
"  H'm !  Sunk  in  a  sodden  slumber,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Not  at   all.      Interested   by  your   conversation  - 
fascinated.      Ha!      Here    is    something    to    vary    the 
evening's  monotony.     A  row-boat  is  drifting  down 
stream  towards  us.     Let  us  make  little  wagers  with 
each  other  as  to  who  '11  be  in  it." 

He  looked  over  his  shoulder  upward  at  the  moon, 
which  a  flying  scud  of  cloud  had  momentarily  veiled. 
Peter,  who  had  sat  down  again,  glanced  up  the  river. 

"  I  don't  see  any  boat." 

"  There  is  where  the  wager  comes  in,  my  son. 
Hurry  up  —  the  moon  will  pop  out  in  another  minute, 
and  spoil  the  sport." 

"  Drifting,  you  say.  Bet  you  she  's  empty  —  broke 
away  from  her  moorings  and  riding  down  with  the 
current.  Bet  you  half  a  dollar.  My  second  bet,"  he 
said,  warming  to  the  work,  "  is  an  old  washerwoman 
and  her  little  boy,  out  on  their  rounds  collecting 
clothes.  It 's  Monday.  In  case  both  firsts  are  wrong, 
second  choices  get  the  money." 

"  My  bet  is  —  Ha !  Stand  ready  with  your  half ! 
There  she  comes  —  Jove !  " 

"  Good  God !  "    cried  Peter  and  sprang  up. 

For  the  moon  had  jumped  out  from  behind  its 
cloud  like  a  cuckoo  in  a  clock,  and  fallen  full  upon 
the  drifting  boat,  now  hardly  fifty  yards  away.  In 


3o         CAPTIVATING   MARY    CARSTAIRS 

the  bottom  of  it  lay  a  man,  sprawled  over  his  useless 
oars,  his  upturned  face  very  white  in  the  moonlight, 
limp  legs  huddled  under  him  anyhow.  Something  in 
the  abandon  of  his  position  suggested  that  he  would 
not  get  up  any  more. 


CHAPTER    IV 


It  was  an  odd  sight  against  the  setting  of  pretty 
night  and  light,  idle  talk.  Peter's  lip  tightened. 

"  He  's  dead,  poor  chap!  "  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 
"  Murdered." 

"  So  it  seems.  We  can't  be  sure  from  here,  though. 
Where's  that  watch?  Here  —  some  of  you!  Lower 
away  the  dinghy!  Get  a  move!  " 

The  boats  were  on  their  hooks,  swung  outboard 
ready  for  instant  use.  The  crew,  tumbling  out  swiftly 
at  the  call,  cleared  away  one  and  let  it  fall  over  the 
side.  The  young  men  went  down  with  it,  Peter 
seizing  the  oars  as  his  by  right.  The  floating  boat 
with  its  strange  cargo  had  drifted  close  and  was  now 
lost  in  the  vast  black  shadow  of  the  yacht. 

"Where  is  it?" 

"I  can't  —  Yes!  There  it  is.  Straight  back. 
Now  a  little  to  the  right.  Way  enough !  " 

Varney,  in  the  stern,  leaned  out  and  gripped  the 
drifting  gunwale  securely.  But  it  was  so  dark  here 
that  he  could  see  almost  nothing. 

"  He  's  breathing,  I  think,"  he  said,  his  hand  against 
the  strange  man's  chest.  "  Pull  out  into  the  light." 


32         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

But  just  then  the  arm  that  lay  under  the  still  head 
unmistakably  twitched. 

"  Good !  "  cried  Peter  and  laughed  a  little.  "  Strike 
a  match  and  let 's  have  a  look  at  him." 

Varney  fumbled  in  his  pockets,  found  one  and 
scratched  it  on  the  side.  Shielding  the  flame  in  his 
curved  hand,  he  leaned  forward  and  held  it  close  to 
that  motionless  face. 

It  was  a  young  face,  pale  and  rather  haggard,  lined 
about  the  mouth  and  yellow  about  the  eyes ;  the  face 
of  a  clever  but  broken  gentleman.  Full  of  contrasts 
and  a  story  as  it  was,  it  would  have  been  a  striking 
face  at  any  time ;  and  to  the  two  peering  men  in  the 
Cypriams  boat,  it  was  now  very  striking  indeed.  For 
they  saw  immediately  that  the  curious  eyes  were  half 
open  and  were  fixed  full  upon  them. 

The  match  burned  Varney's  fingers,  went  out  and 
dropped  into  the  water.  He  said  nothing.  Neither 
did  Peter.  The  man  in  the  boat  did  not  stir.  So 
went  by  a  second  of  profound  stillness.  Then  a  some 
what  blurred  voice  said : 

"  When   a  gentleman   goes   rowing  —  in   a   private 
boat  —  and  is  raided  by  a  pair  of  unknown  investi 
gators  —  one  of  them  wearing  a  Mother  Hubbard  - 
who  strike  matches  in  his  face  and  make  personal  re 
marks  —  he  naturally  awaits  their  explanations." 

The  speech  fell  upon  four  of  the  most  astonished 
ears  in  the  State  of  New  York. 

Peter  recovered  first:  the  remark  about  the  Mother 
Hubbard  had  stung  him  a  little,  even  in  that  dum- 
founded  moment,  but  he  only  laughed. 


POLITICS   AND   OTHER   MATTERS         33 

"  The  fact  is,  we  made  absolutely  sure  that  you  were 
a  corpse.  Our  mistake." 

"  But  God  save  us !  "  murmured  the  young  man. 
"  Can't  a  man  die  these  days  without  a  yacht-full  of 
anxious  persons  steaming  up  and  clamping  a  light 
against  his  eyeball  ?  " 

"  But  can't  we  do  something  for  you?  "  asked  Var- 
ney.  "  That 's  what  we  are  here  for." 

The  young  man  lay  still  and  thought  a  moment, 
which  he  appeared  to  do  with  some  difficulty. 

"  To  be  frank,"  his  voice  came  out  of  the  dark, 
rather  clearer  now,  "  you  can.  Give  me  a  match,  will 
you?" 

Varney  laughed;  he  produced  and  handed  over  a 
little  box  of  them.  Lying  flat  on  his  back  in  the  boat, 
the  young  man  fished  a  cigarette  out  of  his  pocket, 
hurriedly,  and  stuck  it  between  his  lips.  The  next 
minute  the  spurt  of  a  match  cut  the  air.  The  two  in 
the  ship's  boat  caught  a  brief,  flashing  glimpse  of  him 
—  thin  white  hands  raised  to  thin  white  face. 

"  Something  of  a  poseur,  are  n't  you  ?  "  suggested 
Peter  pleasantly.  "  What 's  your  role  to-night?  " 

There  followed  a  fractional  pause. 

"  That  of  a  vagrant  student  of  manners  and  cus 
toms,"  answered  the  colorless  voice.  "  Therefore,  to 
imitate  your  frankness,  you  interest  me  greatly." 

"  Those  who  study  manners,"  said  Peter,  "  should 
learn  them  after  a  while.  Why  did  n't  you  sing  out, 
when  you  saw  us  hustling  to  get  out  a  boat,  and  tell 
us  not  to  bother,  as  you  were  only  playing  dead  for 
the  lark  of  the  thing?" 

3 


34         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  Singing,  whether  out  or  in,  is  an  art  at  which  I  can 
claim  small  proficiency.  But  tell  me  the  time,  will 
you?  I  seem  to  have  hocked  my  watch." 

Peter  laughed  a  little  ruefully.  "  It 's  seven  thirty- 
six  —  no  more  and  no  less." 

The  young  man  sat  up  with  an  effort,  and  uncer 
tainly  gathered  up  his  oars. 

"You'll  excuse  me,  then?"  he  said.  "I  have  an 
engagement  at  seven  thirty,  and  as  you  see,  there  is 
little  time  to  make  it." 

"  We  gave  you  a  light,"  said  Peter.  "  Why  not  re 
ciprocate?  Who  the  devil  are  you?" 

"  I  am  a  part  of  all  that  I  have  met,"  said  the  stran 
ger,  pulling  off.  "  I  am  wily  wandering  Ulysses.  I 
am  —  " 

"  That  will  do,"  said  Peter  sharply. 

He  bowed  gravely  and  rowed  away.  Peter  looked 
after  him  for  some  time,  in  rather  impressive  silence. 

"  What  d'  you  suppose  was  the  matter  with  the  beg 
gar,  anyway?  He  wasn't  drunk." 

"  Did  n't  you  notice  his  wrists  when  he  held  than 
up  to  light  his  cigarette?  Full  of  little  scars." 

Peter  whistled.  "  So  morphine  is  his  trouble,  is  it? 
Listen !  " 

From  down  the  river  rose  a  faint  roar,  like  the 
sound  of  many  voices  a  long  way  off.  While  the  two 
men  listened,  it  subsided  and  then  rose  again. 

"  Hello !  "  said  Varney.  "  Look  at  your  student  of 
manners  and  customs  now." 

The  man  in  the  boat  was  still  plainly  discernible,  his 
face  picked  out  by  the  moon  in  greenish  white.  But 


POLITICS   AND   OTHER   MATTERS        35 

there  was  no  longer  any  lethargy  in  his  manner.  He 
was  bending  his  back  to  his  best  stroke  —  an  excel 
lent  one  it  \vas  —  and  driving  his  light  bark  rapidly 
down  the  stream. 

"  My  bet,"  said  Varney,  "  is  that  he  hears  those 
shouts,  and  they  mean  something  to  him  —  something 
interesting  and  important." 

"Larry,  be  a  sport!  Let 's  follow  this  thing  along 
and  find  out  what  it  all  means." 

"  Oh,  I  'm  willing  to  drop  into  town  for  a  little  re- 
connoissance,  if  you  like.  Maybe  we  can  pick  up 
something  that  will  help  us  in  our  business." 

"  Spoken  like  a  scholar  and  a  gentleman.  One 
minute  while  I  get  on  my  clothes.  Oh  —  by  the  way ! 
Er  —  this  new  —  robe  of  mine  does  n't  look  like  a 
Mother  Hubbard,  does  it  ?  " 

"  In  my  opinion,"  said  Varney,  "  two  things  could 
not  well  be  more  utterly  unlike." 

Peter  was  back  in  five  minutes,  clothed  and  in  his 
right  mind.  His  falling  foot  hit  the  center-line  of  the 
gig  with  a  thump,  and  they  shot  away  toward  the 
town  wharf. 

They  bade  the  boat  wrait  their  signal  in  the  shadows 
a  little  upstream,  and  jumped  out  upon  the  old  and 
rotting  landing.  A  street  ran  straight  before  them,  up 
a  steep  hill  and  into  the  heart  of  the  tow^n,  and  they 
took  it,  guided  by  a  burst  of  still  distant  laughter  and 
hoarse  shouts.  Toiling  up  the  evil  sidewalk,  they 
looked  about  curiously  at  the  town  which  was  to  en 
gage  their  attention  for  the  next  day  or  so.  Over 
everything  hung  that  vague  air  of  dejection  and  moral 


36         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

decay  which  is  so  hard  to  define  and  so  easy  to  detect. 
The  street  was  lit  with  feeble  electric  lights  which  did 
little  more  than  nullify  the  moon.  Grass  grew  at  its 
pleasure  through  the  broken  brick  pavement ;  and  even 
in  that  dimness,  it  was  very  evident  that  the  White 
Wing  department  had  been  taking  a  long  vacation. 

Varney's  eye  took  in  everything.  It  occurred  to  him 
that  this  was  a  most  extraordinary  place  for  the  family 
of  the  exquisite  and  well-fixed  Elbert  Carstairs  to  live. 
Hard  on  the  heels  of  that  came  another  thought  and  he 
stopped. 

"What's  the  matter?"    said  Peter. 

"  We  simply  must  n't  get  mixed  up  in  any  doings 
here,  you  know.  Can't  afford  it.  Whatever  is  going 
on,  our  role  must  be  that  of  quiet  onlookers  only. 
Remember  that." 

"  Quiet  onlookers  it  is.  Hello !  Did  you  see 
that?" 

"What?" 

"  Old  duck  in  a  felt  hat  walking  behind  us,  a  good 
distance  off  —  I'd  heard  him  for  some  time.  He 
stopped  when  we  stopped,  and  when  I  turned  then  I 
was  just  in  time  to  see  him  go  skipping  up  the  side 
street." 

"Well,  what  of  it?" 

"  Not  a  thing.  I  'm  interested  in  the  sights  of  the 
town,  that 's  all.  Listen  to  those  hoodlums,  will 
you?" 

In  the  middle  of  that  block  rose  a  great  public 
building  of  florid  and  hideous  architecture,  absurdly 
expensive  for  so  small  a  town,  and  running  fast  to 


POLITICS   AND   OTHER   MATTERS        37 

seed.  On  the  corner  ahead,  at  the  crest  of  the  slope, 
stood  the  handsomest  and  most  prosperous-looking 
building  they  had  yet  seen.  Its  long  side  was  cut  by 
many  windows,  all  brilliantly  lit  up,  and  above  the 
lower  tier  ran  the  gold-lettered  legend : 

WINES   &  LIQUORS.     THE  OTTOMAN.     D.  RYAN. 

"  When  the  saloon-keeper  is  the  richest  man  in 
town,"  observed  Peter,  "  look  out  for  trouble." 

A  roar  of  laughter,  mingled  with  various  derisive 
cries,  broke  out  just  then,  now  from  very  near.  The 
next  minute  the  two  men  reached  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
and  both  stopped  involuntarily,  arrested  by  the  tab 
leau  which  met  their  gaze  beyond. 

They  stood  on  the  upper  side  of  a  little  rectangular 
"  square,"  at  the  lower  edge  of  which,  some  fifty  yards 
away,  were  gathered  possibly  thirty  or  forty  jostling 
and  noisy  men.  Facing  them,  standing  on  a  carriage- 
block  at  the  curb,  stood  a  cool  little  man  obviously 
engaged  in  making  a  speech.  The  commonness  of 
the  men  and  the  rough  joviality  of  their  mood  were 
the  more  accentuated  by  the  supreme  dignity  of  the 
orator.  He  was  a  very  small  man,  with  pink  cheeks 
and  eye-glasses,  beautifully  made  and  still  more  beau 
tifully  dressed;  and  for  all  their  boisterous  "jolly 
ing  "  his  auditors  appeared  rather  to  like  him  than 
the  contrary. 

The  men  from  the  Cypriani  crossed  the  square  and 
came  up  with  the  merry-making  Hunstonians.  Var- 
ney's  gaze  went  round  the  circle  of  faces  and  saw 
inefficiency,  shiftlessness,  and  failure  everywhere 


38         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

stamped  upon  them.  Suddenly  his  wandering  eye  was 
arrested  by  a  face  of  quite  a  different  sort.  Directly 
opposite  stood  the  eccentric  young  man  of  the  row- 
boat,  watching  the  show  out  of  listless  eyes  whose 
expression  never  changed. 

"  On    that    horse-block,"    said    Peter,    raising    his 
voice  to  carry  above  an  outburst  of  catcalls  and  al 
legedly    humorous    comment,    "  stands    the    Hunston 
Reform  Movement.     Giving  'em  a  ripping  talk,  too  — 
all  out  of  Bryce,  Mill,  and  the  other  fellows." 

But  at  that  moment,  as  luck  had  it,  the  oratory 
came  to  a  sudden  end.  A  sportive  bull-pup,  malevo 
lently  released  by  some  one  in  the  crowd,  danced  up 
to  the  horse-block,  barking  joyfully,  and  made  a  light 
ning  dive  for  the  spellbinder's  legs.  The  spellbinder 
dexterously  side-stepped;  the  dog's  aim  was  diverted 
from  that  fleshy  portion  of  the  thigh  which  his  fancy 
had  selected ;  but  his  snapping  teeth  closed  firmly  in 
the  tail  of  the  pretty  light-gray  coat,  which  the  little 
man  wore  rather  long  according  to  the  mode  of  the 
day.  And  there  he  swung,  kicking  and  snarling, 
squirming  and  grunting,  in  the  liveliest  fashion  im 
aginable. 

Merry  pandemonium  broke  out  among  the  on 
lookers;  they  howled  with  shameless  delight.  It  was 
hardly  a  pleasant  scene  to  witness,  though  redeemed 
by  the  little  orator's  gameness.  His  face,  when  he  took 
in  what  had  happened  to  him,  slowly  turned  the  color 
of  a  sheet  of  white  paper.  With  indescribable  dignity, 
he  descended  from  his  rostrum,  carrying  the  dog 
along,  and  walked  out  into  the  ring.  In  front  of  a 


POLITICS   AND   OTHER   MATTERS        39 

tall,  loose-jointed,  scraggly-mustached  fellow  he  paused, 
and  stared  him  in  the  eye  with  steady  fixity. 

"  T-t-take  your  d-d-damned  d-dog  off  me,  Hack- 
ley,"  he  said,  stuttering  badly,  but  very  cool. 

But  Hackley  backed  away,  shaking  his  head  and  bel 
lowing  with  laughter.  In  an  ecstasy  of  delight,  the 
onlookers  began  pressing  more  closely  about  the  men, 
narrowing  the  circle.  And  then  it  was  that  Peter, 
quite  forgetting  his  role  of  quiet  onlooker  and  un 
able  for  his  life  to  restrain  himself  longer,  put  his 
shoulder  to  the  ring  and  broke  a  vigorous  way 
through.  He  touched  the  little  orator  on  the  arm. 

"  No  need  to  trouble  the  gentleman,"  Varney  heard 
him  say  pleasantly.  "  Just  hold  the  position  a  moment, 
please."  And  so  saying  he  swung  back  his  foot. 

It  landed  with  an  impact  that  was  loud  and  not 
agreeable  to  the  ear.  The  dog  dropped  with  a  fright 
ful  howl  and,  yelping  madly,  fled.  Simultaneously, 
cries  arose  about  the  ringside,  and  the  dog's  owner,  an 
alcoholic  blaze  in  his  eye,  spat  bitterly  into  his  two 
palms  and  headed  straight  for  Peter. 

"  What  in  the  blank-blank  d'  yer  mean  by  kickin' 
my  blank  dog,  you  blank-blankety-blank,  you?"  he 
inquired. 

"  I  meant  that  he  was  behaving  as  no  dog  should," 
explained  Peter,  "  and  the  same  remark  applies  to 
you." 

He  was  not  without  skill  at  fisticuff,  was  Hackley. 
With  the  speed  of  a  tiger,  he  let  out  first  his  left  fist, 
then  his  right,  at  Peter  Maginnis's  head.  But  instead 
of  arriving  there,  they  collided  with  a  forearm  which 


40         CAPTIVATING   MARY    CARSTAIRS 

had    about   the    resiliency   of   a   two-foot   stone-wall. 
Simultaneously,   Peter  released  his  famous   left-hook 
-  had  of  the  Bronx  Barman  at  ten  dollars  a  lesson  - 
and  the  fight  was  over. 

Mr.  Hackley's  head  struck  first,  and  struck  pas 
sionately;  men  picked  him  up  and  bore  him  limply 
from  the  field.  And  Peter,  a  tiny  spot  of  red  in  the 
corner  of  his  right  eye,  spoke  thus  to  the  horseshoe  of 
watching  faces : 

"  You  're  a  devil  of  a  fine  gang  of  red-hot  sports, 
aren't  you,  boys?  A  whole  regiment  of  you  with  no 
more  decency  than  to  pick  on  one  man  like  this.  I 
come  from  a  white  man's  country  where  this  kind  of 
thing  doesn't  go  —  thank  God!  And  any  man  who 
has  formed  a  bad  opinion  of  my  manners  and  my  gen 
eral  style  of  conversation  can  just  step  out  into  the 
ring  and  let  me  explain  my  system  to  him." 

But  nobody  accepted  that  invitation.  Possibly  the 
rub  was  that  no  one  cared  to  see  that  left-hook  work 
again,  at  his  own  expense,  or  to  encourage  any  trouble 
to  come  athwart  his  quiet  career.  At  any  rate,  there 
were  a  few  mutterings  here  and  there ;  and  then  some 
one  sang  out : 

"  None  fer  mine,  Mister!  I  ain't  took  out  my  life 
insurance  yet." 

There  was  a  general  laugh  at  this,  and  with  that 
laugh  Peter  knew  that  all  hope  of  more  fighting  was 
gone.  He  bade  them  a  sardonic  good-night,  hooked 
his  arm  through  the  orator's  (who  actually  showed 
signs  of  an  intention  to  resume  his  speech),  and  bore 
him  off  down  the  street. 


POLITICS   AND   OTHER   MATTERS        41 

The  three  men  walked  half  a  block  in  silence,  and 
then  the  little  stranger  stopped  short. 

"  I  say,"  he  said  in  a  faintly  unsteady  voice,  "  I 
want  to  thank  you  for  taking  that  confounded  dog 
off  me.  In  another  minute  he  might  have  torn  my 
coat,  don't  you  know?  " 

"  Oh,  that 's  all  right,"  said  Peter,  repressing  a 
smile.  "  Kicking  dogs  is  rather  a  specialty  of  mine, 
and  it  is  n't  often  I  get  the  chance  to  attend  to  two  of 
them  in  one  evening.  I  would  n't  give  the  episode 
another  thought." 

The  little  man  gave  a  sudden  fierce  laugh.  "  Oh, 
certainly  not !  It  's  a  mere  bagatelle  for  a  candidate 
for  Mayor  to  get  a  hand-out  like  that  from  a  gather 
ing  of  voters !  " 

"  Mayor !  I  beg  your  pardon !  Of  course  I  did  n't 
quite  understand." 

Whereupon  Peter  begged  to  introduce  himself  as 
an  ardent  amateur  statesman,  a  student  of  good  gov 
ernment  from  New  Hampshire  to  New  Zealand  and 
from  Plato  to  Lincoln  Steffens,  who  had  —  er  — 
come  to  Hunston  hoping  to  see  something  of  the  fight 
for  reform.  The  candidate,  in  turn,  produced  cards. 
It  became  apparent  that  he  bore  the  name  of  J.  Pink- 
ney  Hare.  And  the  upshot  of  the  colloquy  was  that 
the  two  young  men  presently  found  themselves  in 
vited  to  call  upon  Candidate  Hare  next  morning,  and 
learn  something  of  the  situation. 

"  I  '11  be  delighted,"  accepted  Peter  promptly,  — 
"  delighted." 

"  That  's  settled  then.  Good-night  —  and  thanks 
awf'ly  for  your  assistance." 


He  pivoted  on  his  trim  heels,  abruptly,  and  went 
away  up  the  side  street. 

Peter  turned  to  Varney  with  a  faint  grin.  "  That 
chap  gets  his  first  lesson  in  the  art  of  being  a  re 
former  to-morrow.  Curious,  was  n't  it  ?  —  stumbling 
right  into  the  heart  of  the  agitation  an  hour  after  we 
hit  the  town." 

Varney,  who  had  followed  Peter's  activities  of  the 
last  five  minutes  with  considerable  disapproval,  did  not 
answer  his  smile. 

"  Give  me  a  hasty  sketch  of  your  conception  of  a 
quiet  onlooker,  will  you,  Peter?" 

"  Tush !  "  said  Peter.  "  Why,  can't  you  see  that 
this  sort  of  thing  will  make  the  finest  kind  of  blind? 
St !  Here  's  our  little  friend  coming  back  again." 

"  I  say,"  called  the  voice  of  J.  Pinkney  Hare  out 
of  the  gloom. 

"Yes?"    said  Peter. 

The  candidate  drew  nearer. 

"  Our  city  is  not  plentifully  supplied  with  amuse 
ments,"  he  began  in  his  somewhat  pompous  manner. 
"  It  just  occurred  to  me  that,  in  lieu  of  anything 
better,  you  gentlemen  might  care  to  go  home  with  me 
now.  I  should  be  happy  to  have  you  —  and  to  recip 
rocate  your  courtesy  in  any  way  within  my  power." 

Peter,  doubtless  remembering  the  slow  time  he  had 
been  having  on  the  yacht,  brightened  instantly  and 
visibly. 

"  Why,  thanks.  I  '11  be  awfully  glad  to  come.  I 
-  er  —  I  'm  tremendously  interested  in  your  situation 
here,  I  assure  you." 


POLITICS   AND    OTHER   MATTERS        43 

Then,  catching  a  warning  glance  from  Varney,  who 
politely  declined  the  invitation,  he  apologized  to  the 
candidate  and  drew  his  captain  briefly  aside. 

"  I  '11  pick  up  all  the  information  I  can  —  under 
stand  ?  "  he  murmured  hurriedly.  "  And  don't  you 
worry.  A  little  flurry  in  politics  will  make  the  best 
sort  of  a  cover  for  you  while  you  sneak  around  after 
Mary." 

On  that  the  two  friends  parted.  Peter  hurried  on 
after  the  little  reformer,  and  Varney,  turning,  con 
tinued  his  way  down  Main  Street  toward  the  river 
and  the  Cypriani,  not  entirely  displeased,  after  all, 
that  Peter  had  found  some  congenial  diversion  for  the 
evening. 

The  street  was  almost  a  desert.  If  the  unmistakable 
sounds  of  revelry  by  night  meant  anything,  nearly  the 
whole  population  was  behind  him  in  the  Ottoman  bar. 
But  in  the  middle  of  the  next  block,  two  ragged  men, 
standing  idly  and  talking  together,  turned  at  the 
sounds  of  the  young  man's  steps.  One  of  them,  re 
vealed  by  a  near-by  shop-light,  had  straggly  gray 
whiskers,  vacant  eyes,  and  a  bad  foolish  mouth.  Both 
of  them  stared  at  Varney  with  marked  intentness. 
He  had  to  go  quite  out  of  his  way  to  get  round  them. 

'  They  don't  see  strangers  every  day,  I  take  it,"  he 
thought  absently;  and  suddenly  he  cast  an  inquiring 
eye  at  the  heavens. 

The  night,  so  shining  half  an  hour  before,  was  be 
coming  heavily  overcast.  Clouds  had  rolled  up  from 
nowhere  and  blotted  out  the  moon.  About  him  the 
night  breeze  was  freshening  with  a  certain  signifi- 


44          CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

cance;  and  now  unexpectedly  there  fell  upon  his  ear 
the  faint  far  rumble  of  thunder.  Decidedly,  there 
would  be  rain,  and  that  right  soon.  Varney  quickened 
his  pace. 

At  the  end  of  that  quiet  block  he  came  upon  a 
crimson-cheeked  lady,  somewhat  past  her  first  youth 
and  over-plump  for  beauty,  who  was  engaged  in  put 
ting  up  the  shutters  at  her  mother's  grocery  establish 
ment.  Glancing  around  casually  at  his  approach,  her 
glance  became  transfixed  into  a  stare. 

"  Well !  "  she  exclaimed  in  surprise  and  not  with 
out  coquettishness  —  "if  it  ain't  Mr.  Ferris!" 

"  If  it  ain't  Mr.  Ferris  —  what  then?  "  asked  Var 
ney.  "  For,  madam,  I  assure  you  that  it  ain't." 

The  woman,  taken  aback  by  this  denial,  only  stared 
and  had  no  reply  ready.  But  the  young  man,  walking 
on,  was  set  to  thinking  by  this  second  encounter,  and 
presently  he  mused :  "  I  'm  somebody's  blooming 
double,  that 's  what.  I  wonder  whose." 

And  on  that  word,  as  though  to  get  an  answer  to  his 
speculation,  he  suddenly  halted  and  turned. 

He  had  now  progressed  nearly  a  block  from  the 
buxom  young  woman  of  the  grocery.  For  some  time, 
even  before  that  meeting,  he  had  been  aware  of  light, 
steady  footsteps  behind  him  on  the  dark  street,  gaining 
on  him.  By  this  time  they  had  come  very  near;  and 
now  as  he  \vhjeeled  sharply,  with  a  vague  anticipation 
of  Peter's  "  old  duck  in  a  felt  hat,"  he  found  himself 
face  to  face  with  quite  a  different  figure  —  that  of  a 
thin  young  man  whom  he  recognized. 

"  Bless  us !  "  said  Varney  urbanely.  "  It 's  the 
student  of  manners  again." 


POLITICS   AND   OTHER   MATTERS        45 

The  pale  young  stranger  stopped  two  paces  away 
and  gave  back  his  look  with  the  utmost  composure. 

"  Still  on  my  studies,"  said  he,  in  his  flat  tones  — 
"  though  I  doubt,"  he  added  thoughtfully,   "  if  that 
fully  explains  why  I  have  followed  you." 

"  Ah  ?  Perhaps  I  may  venture  to  ask  what  would 
explain  it  more  fully  ?  " 

"  Oh,  certainly.  My  real  motive  was  to  suggest, 
purely  because  of  a  paternal  interest  I  take  in  you, 
that  you  leave  town  to-morrow  morning  —  you  and 
your  ferocious  friend." 

Varney  eyed  him  amusedly.  "  But  is  not  this 
somewhat  —  er  —  precipitate  ?•" 

"  Oh,  not  a  bit  of  it.  In  fact,  you  hardly  require  me 
to  tell  you,  Beany,  that  you  were  a  great  fool  to  come 
back  at  all." 

"Beany!" 

"  You  don't  mind  if  I  sit  down?  " 

A  row  of  packing-cases  clogged  the  sidewalk  at  the 
point  where  they  stood,  and  the  young  man  dropped 
down  wearily  upon  one  of  them,  and  leaned  back 
against  the  store-front. 

"Beany?"    repeated  Varney. 

"  It  was  dark  down  on  the  river,"  observed  the 
other  slowly,  "  but  the  instant  I  saw  you  on  the  square, 
I  recognized  you,  and  so,  my  friend,  will  everybody 
else." 

"  With  even  better  success,  I  trust,  than  you  have 
done.  For  my  name  is  not  Beany,  but  indeed  Var 
ney  —  Laurence  Varney  —  permit  me  — 

"Ah,  well!  Stick  it  out  if  you  prefer.  In  any 
case  —  " 


46         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  But  do  tell  me  the  name  of  this  individual  to  whom 
I  bear  such  a  marked  resemblance.  I  naturally  - 

"  The  individual  to  whom  you  bear  such  a  marked, 
I  may  say  such  a  very  marked,  resemblance,"  said  the 
stranger,  mockingly,  "  is  a  certain  Mr.  Ferris  Stan 
hope,  a  prosperous  manufacturer  of  pink-tea  litera 
ture.  You  never  heard  the  name  —  of  course.  But 
never  mind  about  that.  I  should  advise  you  both  to 
leave  town  anyway." 

"Is  it  trespassing  too  far  if  I  ask  —  " 

"  Any  one  who  associates  with  little  Hare,  as  I  have 
a  premonition  that  you  two  will  do  if  you  stay,  is  born 
to  trouble  as  the  sparks  fly  upward." 

Varney  came  a  step  nearer  and  rested  his  foot  on 
the  edge  of  the  packing-case. 

"  Now  that,"  said  he,  "  is  by  all  odds  the  best  thing 
you  've  said  yet.  Elucidate  it  a  bit,  won't  you  ?  I 
admit  to  some  curiosity  about  that  little  tableau  in  the 
square  —  " 

"Yes?  Well,  I  owe  you  one  for  that  box  of 
matches,  Beany  —  er  —  Mr.  —  and  it  would  be 
rather  asinine  for  you  or  your  pugilistic  partner  to  be 
gin  monkeying  with  our  buzz-saw.  I  happened,  you 
see,  to  overhear  part  of  your  talk  with  J.  Pinkney 
Hare  just  nowr.  How  others  might  view  it  I  know 
not,  but  to  me  it  seemed  only  fair  to  warn  you  that 
that  interesting  young  man  must  be  shunned  by  the 
wise.  As  to  the  mayoralty,  he  has  as  much  chance  of 
getting  in  as  a  jack-rabbit  has  of  butting  a  way 
through  the  Great  Wall  of  China.  For  we  have  a 
great  wall  here  of  the  sturdiest  variety." 


POLITICS   AND   OTHER   MATTERS        4? 

He  meant,  as  he  briefly  explained,  the  usual  System, 
and  back  of  it  the  usual  Boss :  one  Ryan,  owner  of  the 
Ottoman  saloon  and  the  city  of  Hunston,  who  held 
the  town  in  the  hollow  of  his  coarse  hand,  and  was 
slowly  squeezing  it  to  death. 

'  The  election,"  he  went  on  listlessly,  "  is  only  two 
weeks  off,  but  the  rascal  is  n't  lifting  a  finger.  He 
does  n't  have  to.  To-morrow  night  he  holds  what  he 
calls  his  annual  '  town-meeting  '  —  a  fake  and  a  joke. 
The  trustful  people  gather,  listen  to  speeches  by  Ryan 
retainers,  quaff  free  lemonade.  Nominally,  every 
body  is  invited  to  speak ;  really  only  the  elect  are  per 
mitted  to.  I  saw  a  reform  candidate  try  it  once,  and  it 
was  interesting  to  see  how  scientifically  they  put  a 
crimp  in  him." 

"And  J.  Pinkney  Hare?"  queried  Varney  becom 
ing  rather  interested. 

Was  everything,  the  young  man  explained,  that 
Ryan  was  not  —  able,  honest,  unselfish,  public-spirited. 
Studying  the  situation  quietly  for  a  year,  he  had  un 
covered  a  most  unholy  trail  of  graft  leading  to  high 
places.  But  when  he  began  to  try  to  tell  the  people 
about  it,  he  found  his  way  hopelessly  blocked  at  every 
turn. 

"  He  can't  even  hire  a  hall,"  summarized  the  stran 
ger.  "  Not  to  save  his  immortal  soul.  That  was  the 
meaning  of  the  ludicrous  exhibition  a  few  minutes 
ago.  In  one  word,  he  can't  get  a  hearing.  He  might 
talk  with  the  tongues  of  men  and  angels,  but  nobody 
will  listen  to  him.  It  is  a  dirty  shame.  But  what  in 
the  world  can  you  expect?  Lift  a  finger  against  the 


48         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

gang,  and,  presto,  your  job  's  gone,  and  you  can't  find 
another  high  or  low.  Ryan's  money  goes  everywhere 
—  into  the  schools,  the  church,  the  press.  The  press. 
That,  of  course,  is  the  System's  most  powerful  ally. 
The  —  infamous  Hollaston  Gazette  — 

"  The  Hollaston  Gazette  —  is  that  published  here?  " 
asked  Varney  in  surprise,  for  the  Gazette  was  famous : 
one  of  those  very  rare  small-town  newspapers  which, 
by  reason  of  great  age  and  signal  editorial  ability, 
have  earned  a  national  place  in  American  journalism. 

"  Named  after  the  county.  You  have  heard  of  it?  " 
said  the  young  man  in  a  faintly  mocking  voice,  and 
immediately  went  on :  "  The  Gazette  is  eighty  years 
old.  Even  now,  in  these  bad  times,  everybody  in  the 
county  takes  it.  They  get  all  their  opinions  from  it, 
ready-made.  It  is  their  Bible.  A  fool  can  see  what 
a  power  such  a  paper  is.  For  seventy-seven  years  the 
Gazette  fully  deserved  it.  That  was  the  way  it  won  it. 
But  all  that  is  changed  now.  And  the  paper  is  mak 
ing  a  great  deal  of  money." 

"It  is  crooked,  then?" 

"  I  said,  did  I  not,  that  it  was  for  Ryan  ?  " 

He  lounged  further  back  in  the  shadows  upon  his 
packing-case;  he  appeared  not  to  be  feeling  well  at 
all.  Varney  regarded  him  with  puzzled  interest. 

"  A  very  depressing  little  story,"  he  suggested, 
"  but  after  all,  hardly  a  novel  one.  I  don't  yet  alto 
gether  grasp  \vhy  —  " 

'  Your  Jeffries  of  a  friend  is  a  red-hot  political 
theorist,  isn't  he?"  asked  the  other  apathetically. 
"  Our  Hunston  politicians  are  practical  men.  They 


POLITICS   AND   OTHER   MATTERS        49 

are  after  results,  and  seek  them  with  small  regard, 
I  fear,  to  copy-book  precepts.  You  follow  me?  Rus 
ticating  strangers,  visiting  sociological  students,  itin 
erant  idealists,  these  would  do  well  to  speak  softly  and 
walk  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  road." 

'  You  appear,"  said  Varney,  his  curiosity  increas 
ingly  piqued,  "  to  speak  of  these  matters  with  au 
thority  —  " 

"  Rather  let  us  say  with  certitude." 

"  Possibly  you  yourself  have  felt  the  iron-toothed 
bite  of  the  machine?" 

"I?" 

"Why  not?" 

The  young  man  looked  shocked;  slowly  his  pale 
face  took  on  a  look  of  cynical  amusement.  "  Yes, 
yes.  Certainly.  Who  more  so?"  He  appeared  to 
hesitate  a  moment,  and  then  added  with  a  laugh  which 
held  a  curious  tinge  of  defiance:  "In  fact,  I  myself 
have  the  honor  of  being  the  owner  and  editor  of  the 
Gazette  —  Coligny  Smith,  at  your  service  —  " 

"  Coligny    Smith !  "     echoed   Varney    amazed. 

The  young  man  glanced  up.  "  It  was  my  father 
you  have  heard  of.  He  died  three  years  ago.  How 
ever,"  he  added,  with  an  odd  touch  of  pride,  "  he 
always  said  that  I  wrote  the  better  articles." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Varney  felt  by 
turns  astonished,  disgusted,  sorry,  embarrassed. 
Then  he  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Well,  you  have  a  nerve  to  tell  me  this,  Smith. 
In  doing  so,  you  seem  to  have  brought  our  conversa 
tion  to  a  logical  conclusion.  I  thank  you  for  your 

4 


50         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

kindly  advice  and  piquant  confession,  and  so,   good 
evening." 

Mr.  Smith  straightened  on  his  packing-case  and 
spoke  with  unexpected  eagerness. 

"Oh  —  must  you  go?     The   night's   so  young  - 
why  not  —  come  up  to  the  Ottoman  and  have  some 
thing  ?     I  '11  —  I  'd  be  glad  to  explain  - 

"  I  fear  I  cannot  yield  to  the  editorial  blandishments 
this  evening." 

"Well  — I  merely  —  " 

"What?" 

"  Oh,  nothing.  But  remember  —  you  '11  get  into 
trouble  if  you  stay." 

Varney  laughed. 

He  went  on  toward  his  waiting  gig  feeling  vaguely 
displeased  with  the  results  of  his  half-hour  ashore, 
and  deciding  that  for  the  future  it  would  be  best  to 
give  the  town  a  wide  berth.  The  privacy  of  the  yacht 
better  suited  his  mission  than  Main  Street,  Hunston. 
However,  the  end  was  not  yet.  He  had  not  reached 
the  landing  before  a  thought  came  to  him  which 
stopped  him  in  his  tracks. 


CHAPTER    V 

INTRODUCES    MARY    CARSTAIRS    AND    ANOTHER 

Clearly  he  must  see  Peter,  at  once,  before  that  im 
petuous  enthusiast  had  had  time  to  involve  himself  in 
anything,  and  tell  him  bluntly  that  he  must  leave  the 
affairs  of  Hunston  alone  until  their  own  delicate  busi 
ness  had  been  safely  disposed  of. 

In  such  a  matter  as  this  it  was  not  safe  to  take 
chances.  Varney  had  a  curious  feeling  that  young  Mr. 
Smith's  melodramatic  warnings  had  been  offered  in  a 
spirit  of  friendliness,  rather  than  of  hostility.  Never 
theless,  the  eccentric  young  man  had  unmistakably 
threatened  them.  While  Varney  had  been  more  in 
terested  by  the  man,  personally,  than  by  his  whimsi 
cal  menaces,  the  editor's  conversation  could  certainly 
not  be  called  reassuring.  Smith  owned  a  corrupt 
newspaper ;  he  was  a  clever  man  and,  by  his  own  con 
fession,  an  unscrupulous  one,  bought  body  and  soul  by 
the  local  freebooters;  and  if  he  thought  the  headlong 
intruder  Maginnis  important  enough  to  warrant  it, 
there  were  presumably  no  lengths  to  which  he  would 
not  go  to  make  the  town  uncomfortable  for  him,  to 
the  probable  prejudice  of  their  mission.  Clearly,  here 
was  a  risk  which  he,  as  Mr.  Carstairs's  emissary,  had 
no  right  to  incur.  The  Cypriani  was  in  no  position  to 


52          CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

stand  the  fire  of  vindictive  yellow  journalism.  Be 
sides,  there  was  the  complicating  matter  of  his  own 
curious  resemblance  to  somebody  whom,  it  seemed, 
Hunston  knew,  and  not  too  favorably. 

Considerably  annoyed,  Varney  turned  his  face  back 
toward  the  town.  To  avoid  more  publicity,  he  turned 
off  the  main  thoroughfare  to  a  narrow  street  which 
paralleled  it,  and,  walking  rapidly,  came  in  five  min 
utes  to  the  street  where  Peter  and  the  little  candidate 
had  left  him.  This  street  came  as  a  surprise  to  him : 
Hunston's  best  "  residence  section  "  beyond  doubt.  It 
was  really  pretty,  spaciously  wide  and  flanked  by 
handsome  old  trees.  Houses  rose  at  increasingly  long 
intervals  as  one  got  away  from  the  town ;  and  they 
were  for  the  most  part  charming-looking  houses,  set 
in  large  lawns  and  veiled  from  public  scrutiny  by 
much  fine  foliage. 

Varney  cast  about  for  somebody  who  would  give 
him  his  bearings,  and  had  not  far  to  look. 

Purring  stolidly  on  the  butt  of  an  alleged  cigar,  into 
which  he  had  stuck  a  sharpened  match  as  a  visible 
means  of  support,  a  boy  who  was  probably  not  so  old 
as  he  looked  sat  upon  the  curbstone  at  the  corner,  and 
claimed  the  world  for  his  cuspidor.  He  was  an  ill- 
favored  runt  of  a  boy,  with  a  sedate  manner  and  a  face 
somewhat  resembling  a  hickory-nut. 

Varney,  approaching,  asked  him  where  Mr.  Hare 
lived.  Without  turning  around,  or  desisting  an  in 
stant  from  the  tending  of  his  cigar  (which,  indeed, 
threatened  a  decease  at  any  moment),  the  boy  replied: 

"  Acrost  an'  down,  one  half  a  block.     Little  yaller 


INTRODUCES   MARY   CARSTAIRS          53 

house  wit'  green  blinds  and  ornings.     Yer  could  n't 
miss  it.  Yer  party  left  dere  ten  minutes  ago,  dough." 

"What  party?"    asked  Varney  puzzled. 
'  Tall  big  party  wit'  yaller  hat,  stranger  here.     Seen 
him  beatin'   it  out  the  street   for  the  road,  him  and 
Hare.     Coin'  some,  they  was." 

"  How  did  you  know  I  was  looking  for  that  party?  " 

"  Took  a  chanst,"  said  the  boy.     "  Do  I  win?  " 

His  stoical  gravity  made  Varney  smile.     "  You  do 
—  a  good  cigar.     That  one  of  yours  has  one  foot  in 
the  grave,  has  n't  it?  " 

"  T'ank  you,  boss." 

"  By  the  way,"  he  added  casually,  struck  by  a 
thought,  "  Mrs.  Carstairs  must  live  on  this  street 
somewhere,  doesn't  she?  Which  way?" 

"  Same  way  as  yer  party  went.  Last  house  on  de 
street  —  Remsen  Street.  Big  white  one,  up  on  a  hill 
like." 

Varney  hurried  off  on  the  trail  of  his  elusive  friend. 
He  was  puzzled  in  the  last  degree  to  know  why  Peter, 
having  just  entered  Hare's  house,  should  have  left  it  at 
once  and  gone  racing  off,  \vith  Hare,  down  this  empty 
street  toward  the  open  country.  The  one  explanation 
that  occurred  to  him  was  on  the  whole  an  unwelcome 
one.  This  was  that  he  had  made  an  opening  to  intro 
duce  the  subject  of  Mary  Carstairs,  and  the  grateful 
candidate  had  volunteered  his  friendly  offices  —  per 
haps  to  show  Peter  the  house,  perhaps  actually  to  take 
him  up  and  present  him. 

In  the  light  of  a  depressed  corner-lamp  he  glanced 
at  his  watch.  Having  supposed  that  it  must  be  nearly 


54         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

nine  o'clock,  he  was  surprised  to  find  that  it  was  only 
a  few  minutes  after  eight.  He  had  the  handsome 
street  to  himself.  The  night  had  grown  very  dark, 
and  the  faint  but  continuous  rumble  of  thunder  was  a 
warning  to  all  pedestrians  to  seek  shelter  without  de 
lay.  Varney's  stride  was  swift.  Whatever  Peter 
meant  to  do,  he  wanted  to  overtake  him  before  he 
did  it,  and  gently  lead  him  to  understand,  here  at  the 
outset,  that  he  was  a  subordinate  in  this  expedition, 
expected  to  do  nothing  without  orders  from  above. 

But  he  found  himself  at  the  end  of  the  street,  and 
saw  the  country  road  dimly  winding  on  beyond,  with 
out  having  found  a  trace  of  Peter,  or  seen  any  other 
human  being.  Here,  for  all  his  hurry,  he  was  checked 
for  a  moment  by  a  sudden  new  interest.  Mindful  of 
the  boy's  succinct  directions,  he  paused  in  the  shadow 
of  the  wood,  which  here  came  to  the  sidewalk's  edge, 
and  looked  across  the  street  for  the  residence  of  Mrs. 
Carstairs. 

Through  the  trees  of  a  sloping  lawn,  his  gaze  fell 
at  once  upon  a  wide  rambling  white  house,  directly 
opposite,  well  back  from  the  street  and  approached  by 
a  winding  white  driveway.  The  house  was  well 
lighted ;  there  was  a  porch-lamp  lit ;  over  the  carriage- 
gate  hung  a  large  electric  globe.  Despite  the  darkness 
of  the  night,  Varney  had  a  first-rate  view.  The  house 
was  big ;  it  was  white ;  unquestionably  it  was  up  on 
a  hill  like.  In  fact  there  could  be  no  doubt  in  the 
world  that  this  was  the  house  he  had  come  from  New 
York  to  find. 

The  sight  drew  and  interested  him  beyond  all  expec- 


55 

tation.  Presently,  by  a  curious  coincidence,  something 
happened  which  increased  his  interest  tenfold.  His 
eye  had  run  over  the  house,  about  the  lawn,  even  up  at 
the  windows,  taking  in  every  detail.  There  \vas  no 
sign  of  life  anywhere.  But  now7  as  he  stood  and 
watched,  the  swing  front-door  was  unexpectedly 
pushed  open,  and,  like  some  feat  in  mental  telepathy, 
a  girl  stepped  out  upon  the  piazza. 

Involuntarily  Varney  shrank  back  into  the  shadows, 
assuming  by  instinct  the  best  conspirators'  style,  and 
glued  his  eyes  upon  the  impelling  sight.  Not  that 
the  girl  herself  was  peculiarly  fascinating  to  the  eye. 
The  porch-light  revealed  her  perfectly :  a  small,  dark, 
nondescript  child,  not  above  thirteen  years  old,  rather 
badly  dressed  and,  to  say  truth,  not  attractive-looking 
in  any  way.  But  to  Varney,  at  the  moment,  she  was 
the  most  irresistibly  interesting  figure  in  the  six 
continents. 

She  came  to  the  top  of  the  step  and  stood  there, 
peering  out  into  the  darkness  as  though  looking  for 
some  one.  Varney,  from  his  dark  retreat  stared  back 
at  her.  There  they  stood  unexpectedly  face  to  face, 
the  kidnapper  and  his  quarry.  A  sudden  wild  impulse 
seized  the  young  man  to  act  immediately:  to  make  a 
dash  from  his  cover,  bind  the  girl's  mouth  with  his 
handkerchief,  toss  her  over  his  shoulder,  and  fly  with 
her  to  the  yacht.  That  was  the  way  these  things  ought 
to  be  done,  not  by  the  tedious  and  furtive  methods  of 
chicanery.  But,  since  this  man-like  method  was  for 
bidden  him,  why  should  he  not  at  least  cross  boldly 
and  go  in  —  a  lost  wayfarer  inquiring  for  directions 


56         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

—  anything  to  start  up  the  vitally  necessary  acquaint 
ance?  Would  he  ever  have  a  better  chance? 

The  thought  had  hardly  come  to  him  before  the  child 
herself  killed  it.  She  turned  as  suddenly  as  she  had 
come  and  disappeared  into  the  house.  That  broke  the 
spell ;  and  Varney,  interested  by  the  discovery  that  his 
heart  was  beating  above  normal,  slipped  unseen  from 
his  lurking-place,  and  resumed  his  interrupted  prog 
ress  after  Peter  and  Hare. 

Beyond  the  Carstairs's  fence  of  hedge,  the  houses 
stopped  with  the  sidewalk.  The  highway,  having  no 
longer  anything  to  keep  up  appearances  for,  dwindled 
into  an  ordinary  country  road,  meandering  through 
an  ordinary  country  wood.  What  could  have  carried 
Peter  out  here  it  was  impossible  to  conceive ;  but 
clearly  something  had,  and  Varney  raced  on,  hoping 
at  every  moment  to  descry  his  great  form  looming  up 
ahead  of  him  out  of  the  blackness. 

What  luck  —  what  beautiful  luck  —  to  have  found 
her  in  his  very  first  hour  in  Hunston!  It  was  half  his 
work  done  in  the  wink  of  an  eye.  To-morrow  morn 
ing,  the  first  thing,  he  would  return  to  this  quiet  street, 
watch  at  his  ease  for  the  child  to  come  outdoors, 
saunter  calmly  from  his  hiding-place,  make  friends 
with  her.  By  this  time  to-morrow  night,  in  all  human 
probability,  he  would  be  back  in  New  York,  his  errand 
safely  accomplished.  That  done,  Peter  could  play  poli 
tics  to  his  heart's  content.  Meantime,  it  was  more  de 
sirable  than  ever  to  tell  him  of  these  unexpected 
developments  and  deter  him  from  taking  any  step 
which  might  complicate  the  game.  .  .  . 


INTRODUCES   MARY   CARSTAIRS          57 

A  loud  thunderclap  crashed  across  the  train  of  his 
thought.  Another  and  a  worse  one  crowded  close 
upon  it.  He  glanced  up  through  the  trees  into  the 
inky  cavern  of  the  skies,  and  a  single  large  drop  of 
water  spattered  upon  his  upturned  forehead. 

"  Hang  it !  "  he  thought  disgustedly.  "  Here  comes 
the  rain." 

It  came  as  though  at  his  word,  and  with  unbeliev 
able  suddenness.  Thunder  rolled;  the  breeze  stif 
fened  into  a  gale.  Another  drop  fell  upon  his  hat, 
and  then  another,  and  another.  The  young  man  came 
to  an  unwilling  halt. 

But  he  immediately  saw  that  further  pursuit  was, 
for  the  moment  at  least,  out  of  the  question.  The 
storm  broke  with  a  violence  strangely  at  variance  with 
the  calm  of  the  earlier  evening.  The  heavens  opened 
and  the  floods  descended.  Shelter  was  to  be  found  at 
once,  if  at  all,  but  as  he  hesitated,  he  remembered  sud 
denly  that  he  had  not  passed  a  house  in  five  minutes. 
In  the  same  moment  his  eye  fell  upon  a  little  cottage 
just  ahead  of  him,  unlighted  and  barely  perceptible  in 
the  thick  darkness,  standing  off  the  road  not  a  hun 
dred  feet  away.  He  made  for  it  through  the  driving 
rain  and  wind,  stepped  upon  the  narrow  porch,  dis 
covered  immediately  that  it  gave  him  no  protection  at 
all,  and  knocked  loudly  upon  the  shut  door.  He  got 
no  answer.  Trying  it  with  a  wet  hand  he  perceived 
that  it  was  unlocked;  and  without  more  ado,  he 
opened  it  and  stepped  inside. 

It  was  evidently,  as  he  had  surmised,  an  empty 
house.  The  hall  was  dark  and  very  quiet.  He  leaned 


58         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

against  the  closed  front  door  and  dipped  into  his 
pockets  for  a  match.  Behind  him  the  rain  fell  in 
torrents,  and  the  turbulent  wind  dashed  after  it  and 
hurled  it  against  the  streaming  windows.  It  had 
turned  in  half  an  hour  from  a  peaceful  evening  to  a 
wild  night,  a  night  when  all  men  of  good  sense  and 
good  fortune  should  be  sitting  secure  and  snug  by 
their  own  firesides.  And  where,  oh  where,  was  Peter  ? 

Speculating  gloomily  on  this  and  still  exploring  his 
pockets  for  a  match,  he  heard  a  noise  not  far  away  in 
the  dark,  and  knew  suddenly  that  he  was  not  alone. 
The  next  moment  a  voice  floated  to  him  out  of  the 
blackness  near  at  hand,  clear,  but  a  little  irresolute, 
faintly  frightened. 

"Didn't  some  one  come  in?     Who  is  there?" 

It  was  a  woman's  voice  and  a  wholly  charming  one. 
There  could  hardly  have  been  its  match  in  Hunston. 

"  What  a  very  interesting  town !  "  the  young  man 
thought.  "  People  to  talk  to  every  way  you  turn." 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE    HERO    TALKS    WITH    A    LADY    IN    THE    DARK 

Varney  called  reassuringly  into  the  gloom :  "  I  sin 
cerely  beg  your  pardon  for  bursting  in  like  that.  I 
—  had  no  idea  there  was  any  one  here." 

There  was  a  second's  pause. 

"  N  —  no,"  said  the  pretty  voice,  hesitatingly. 
;'  You  —  you  could  n't  —  of  course." 

"  But  please  tell  me  at  once,"  he  said,  puzzled  by 
this  — "  have  I  taken  the  unforgivable  liberty  of 
breaking  into  your  house  ?  " 

"My  house?"  And  he  caught  something  like  be 
wildered  relief  in  her  voice.  "  Why  —  I  —  was  think 
ing  that  I  had  broken  into  yours." 

Varney  laughed,  his  back  against  the  door. 

"  If  it  were,  I  'm  sure  I  should  be  able  to  offer  you 
a  light  at  the  least.  If  it  were  yours,  now  that  I  stop 
to  think  —  well,  perhaps  it  would  be  a  little  eccentric 
for  you  to  be  sitting  there  in  your  parlor  in  the  inky 
dark." 

To  this  there  came  no  reply. 

"  I  suppose  you,  like  me,"  he  continued  courteously, 
"  are  an  unlucky  wayfarer  who  had  to  choose  hastily 
between  trespassing  and  being  drowned." 

"  Yes." 


60         CAPTIVATING  MARY  CARSTAIRS 

Inevitably  he  found  himself  wondering  what  this 
lady  who  shared  his  stolen  refuge  could  be  like.  That 
she  was  a  lady  her  voice  left  no  doubt.  His  eye 
strained  off  into  the  Ethiopian  blackness,  but  could 
make  neither  heads  nor  tails  of  it. 

"  Voices  always  go  by  contraries,"  he  thought. 
"  She  's  fifty-two  and  wears  glasses." 

Aloud  he  said :  "  But  please  tell  me  quite  frankly 
—  am  I  intruding?" 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  the  lady,  only  that  and  nothing 
more. 

"Perhaps  then  you  won't  object  if  I  find  a  seat? 
Leaning  against  a  door  is  so  dull,  don't  you  think?  " 

He  groped  forward,  hands  outstretched  before  him, 
stumbled  against  the  stairway  which  he  sought,  and  sat 
down  uncomfortably  on  the  next-to-the-bottom  step. 
Then  suddenly  the  oddness  of  his  situation  rushed 
over  him,  and,  vexed  though  he  was  with  the  chain  of 
needless  circumstances  which  had  brought  him  into  it, 
he  with  difficulty  repressed  a  laugh. 

An  hour  ago  he  had  been  lounging  at  peace  upon 
the  yacht,  looking  forward  to  nothing  more  titillating 
than  bed  at  the  earliest  respectable  hour.  Now  he 
was  sitting  with  a  strange  lady  of  uncertain  age  in  an 
unlighted  cottage  on  a  lonely  country  road,  while  a 
howling  thunderstorm  raved  outside  imprisoning  him 
for  nobody  could  say  how  long.  In  the  interval  be 
tween  these  two  extremes,  he  had  discovered  that  he 
was  a  "  double,"  been  threatened  with  violence,  hope 
lessly  lost  Peter,  and  found  Mary  Carstairs.  Surely 
and  in  truth,  a  pretty  active  hour's  work ! 


A  LADY   IN  THE  DARK  61 

On  the  tin  roof  of  the  cottage  the  rain  beat  a  wild 
tattoo.  Within,  the  silence  lengthened.  Under  the 
circumstances,  Varney  considered  reserve  on  the  lady's 
part  not  unnatural;  but  a  little  talk,  as  he  viewed  the 
matter,  would  tend  to  help  the  dreary  evening  through. 

He  cleared  his  throat  for  due  notice  and  began  with 
a  laugh. 

"  I  wyas  industriously  chasing  two  men  from  town 
when  the  storm  caught  me.  You  know  what  I  mean 
—  not  drumming  them  out  of  the  city,  but  merely 
pursuing  them  in  this  general  direction.  I  wonder 
if  by  any  chance  you  happened  to  pass  them  on  the 
road?" 

"  N-no,  I  believe  not." 

"  A  very  small  man,  very  well-dressed,  and  a  very 
large  man,  very  badly  dressed,  wearing  a  kind  of  curi 
ous,  rococo  straw  hat.  I  know,"  he  mused,  "  that  you 
could  not  have  forgotten  that  hat.  Once  seen  —  " 

"  Oh !  "  she  exclaimed  with  sudden  evidences  of 
interest  —  "  do  tell  me  —  is  the  smaller  man  you  men 
tion  Mr.  Hare?" 

"  He  is  indeed,"  he  answered  surprised.  "  You 
know  him  ?  Oh,  yes,  —  certainly !  In  Hunston  —  ' 

"  Know  him ! "  said  she  in  tones  of  hardly  sup 
pressed  indignation.  "  It  is  he  who  is  responsible  for 
my  being  caught  in  this  —  this  annoying  pre 
dicament." 

At  something  in  the  way  the  lady  said  that,  Varney 
unconsciously  chipped  twenty  years  off  her  age  and 
conceded  that  she  might  be  no  more  than  thirty-two. 

"  I  'm  sorry  to  hear  that,"  he  said  with  a  laugh.    "  I 


62 

should  say  that  Mr.  Hare  has  already  had  quite  enough 
troubles  for  one  night." 

"  Oh  —  then  you  have  seen  him  this  evening?  " 

"  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  him  on  the  square 
not  half  an  hour  ago." 

Each  waited  for  the  other  to  say  more;  and  it  was 
the  lady  who  yielded.  She  went  on  hesitatingly,  yet 
somehow  as  if  she  were  not  unwilling  to  justify  her 
self  to  this  stranger  in  the  curious  position  in  which 
she  found  herself. 

"It — is  very  strange  —  and  unlike  him,"  she  said 
doubtfully.  "  He  was  to  call  for  me  —  at  quarter 
past  seven  —  and  take  me  home.  I  was  at  the  seam 
stress's,  perhaps  quarter  of  a  mile  up  the  road.  I 
waited  and  waited  —  and  then  —  Oh  —  what  was 
that,  do  you  know?" 

"  Only  this  old  floor  cracking.  Don't  flatter  it  by 
noticing.  How  odd  to  find,  meeting  in  this  way,  that 
we  are  both  searching  for  the  same  man.  Isn't  it?  " 

"  It  —  seems  to  me  even  odder  to  find  that  he  is  not 
searching  for  me." 

She  was  sitting,  so  he  judged  from  the  sound,  about 
fifteen  feet  away.  There  was  coldness  in  her  voice  as 
she  spoke  of  the  candidate.  Varney  felt  sorry  for  that 
young  man  when  he  next  held  converse  with  her. 
From  her  voice  he  had  also  gathered  that  the  dark 
rather  frightened  her,  and  that  the  presence  of  an  un 
known  man  had  not  allayed  her  uneasiness;  though 
something  of  her  reserve  had  vanished,  he  thought, 
when  she  found  that  the  intruder  knew  Mr.  Hare. 

"  Oh,  but  he  was  —  is !  "    he  cried  encouragingly. 


A   LADY   IN   THE   DARK  63 

"  I  'm  positive  that  he  's  searching  for  you  at  this  min 
ute.  Why,  of  course  —  certainly!  That  would  ex 
plain  the  whole  thing." 

Sitting  damply  on  the  dark  stairway,  he  told  of  J. 
Pinkney  Hare's  evidently  impromptu  experiences  in 
the  public  square,  which  had  undoubtedly  knocked 
from  his  mind  all  memory  of  his  engagement  at  the 
seamstress's;  and  of  the  sudden  recollection  of  it, 
which,  there  could  be  no  question,  was  what  had  sent 
him  and  his  new  friend  bursting  out  of  the  house  and 
tearing  for  dear  life  up  the  road. 

"  I  '11  bet,"  said  he,  "  that  not  a  minute  after  you 
turned  into  shelter,  they  raced  by  here  after  you.  Now 
they  're  kicking  their  heels  at  the  sewing-lady's,  prob 
ably  soaked  through,  and  wild  to  know  if  you  got 
home  safely.  Oh,  he  's  being  punished  for  his  sins, 
never  fear." 

"I  —  am  sorry  for  your  friend,"  her  voice  re 
plied.  "  And  I  believe  that  I  forgive  Mr.  Hare  —  now 
that  I  know  what  detained  him.  I  think  I  must 
have  heard  them  go  by  —  just  after  1  got  in.  Once 
I  was  sure  I  heard  voices,  but,  of  course,  I  was  ex 
pecting  Mr.  Hare  to  be  alone." 

"  Ha!  "   thought  Varney.    "  A  Hunston  romance!  " 

"  You  don't  know  Maginnis,"  he  answered  gloom 
ily.  "  Nobody  in  the  world  ever  stays  alone  long  when 
Maginnis  can  possibly  get  to  him." 

He  heard  something  that  he  thought  might  be  a 
faint  laugh.  And  immediately  ten  years  more  came 
off  the  lady's  age,  and  she  stood  at  twenty-two.  The 
young  man  began  to  consider  with  less  distaste  his 
obvious  duty  of  escorting  her  home. 


64         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

In  the  momentary  silence,  wood  somewhere  near 
them  once  more  creaked  loudly  and  scarily. 

"  Oh ! "  came  her  voice  out  of  the  blackness. 
"  Would  you  mind  striking  a  match  and  seeing  if 
there  is  n't  a  lamp  or  something  we  could  light?" 

"But  I  haven't  a  match  —  that's  just  it!  If  I 
had  — /  Why  I  assure  you  I  've  been  wishing  for 
nothing  so  much  as  a  light  ever  since  you  —  ever  since 
I  came  in." 

"  If  I  were  a  man  —  "  she  began,  vexedly,  but  sud 
denly  checked  herself.  "  Are  you  quite  sure  you 
have  n't  a  single  one?  " 

"  I  '11  gladly  look  again  in  all  my  twenty-seven  pock 
ets.  I  've  been  doing  it  ever  since  I  arrived,  and  I  've 
gotten  rather  to  like  it.  But  I  'm  awfully  afraid  it 's 
a  wild  goose  chase." 

Crack!  Crack!  went  the  mysteriously  stirring 
woodwork,  for  all  the  world  like  a  living  thing;  and 
the  lady  again  said  "  Oh !  "  And  after  that  she  said : 
"  You  are  not  —  in  this  room,  are  you?  " 

"  I  'm  sitting  quietly  on  the  steps  digging  around 
for  matches,"  he  said.  "  Would  you  prefer  to  have 
me  come  in  there  ?  " 

"  Would  you  mind  —  ?  Not  that  I  'm  in  the  least 
frightened,  but  — 

"  It  will  give  me  great  pleasure  to  come  —  faith 
fully  searching  my  pockets  as  I  grope  forward. 
Thus,"  he  said,  laughing,  "  I  must  grope  only  with  my 
head  and  feet,  which  is  a  slightly  dangerous  thing  to 
do.  Ouch!  Where  are  you,  please?" 

"  Here." 


A   LADY   IN   THE   DARK  65 

'  Here  '  is  not  very  definite,  you  know.  I  have 
nothing  to  steer  by  but  rny  ear.  Would  you  mind 
talking  a  good  deal  for  a  while  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  often,"  she  said,  with  further  signs  of  a 
thawing  in  her  manner,  "  that  a  woman  gets  an  invita 
tion  like  that." 

"  Opportunity  knocks  at  your  door,  golden,  novel, 
and  unique." 

'  The  luck  of  it  is  that  I  can't  think  of  anything  to 
say.  Would  you  care  to  have  me  hum  something?  " 

Off  came  the  lady's  glasses,  never  to  be  donned 
again  in  fancy  or  in  life;  and  Varney  was  ready  to 
admit  that  there  might  be  ladies  in  Hunston  who  were 
worse-looking  than  she  by  far.  In  the  Stygian  black 
ness  he  collided  with  a  chair  and  paused,  leaning  upon 
the  back  of  it. 

"  I  'd  like  extremely  to  have  you  hum.  From  your 
voice,  I  —  I  'm  sure  that  you  do  it  div  —  awfully 
well.  But  since  you  seem  to  leave  it  to  me,  I  'd  hon 
estly  rather  have  you  do  something  else." 

"Yes?" 

Larry  laughed.  "  It 's  a  game.  A  —  an  evening 
pastime  —  a  sort  of  novel  guessing  contest.  Played 
by  strangers  in  the  dark.  You  see  —  I  must  tell  you 
that  ever  since  you  first  spoke,  my  mind  has  been  giv 
ing  me  little  thumbnail  sketches  —  each  one  different 
from  the  last  —  of  what  you  look  like." 

She  said  nothing  to  this ;   so  he  laughed  again. 

"  Oh,  it 's  not  mere  curiosity,  you  know.  It 's 
purely  a  scientific  matter  with  me.  The  science  of 
deduction.  The  voice,  you  know,  tells  little  or  nothing. 

5 


66          CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

I  may  say  that  I  have  made  something  of  a  study  of 
voices,  and  have  discovered  that  they  always  go  by 
contraries.  For  this  reason,"  he  laughed  gayly, 
"  when  you  first  spoke,  I  —  but  perhaps  I  am  simply 
tiring  you  ?  " 

There  \vas  a  small  pause,  and  then  the  lady  spoke, 
with  apparent  reluctance: 

"  I  am  not  tired." 

Varney  smiled  into  the  great  darkness.  "  Well, 
when  I  first  heard  your  voice  —  ha,  ha !  —  I  made  up 
my  mind  that  you  could  not  possibly  be  less  than 
fifty-two." 

He  was  rewarded  with  a  faint  laugh :  this  time  there 
could  be  no  doubt  of  it. 

"  You  remember  that  mythological  tunnel  where 
everybody  went  in  old  and  came  out  young.  This  con 
versation  has  been  like  that.  Since  we  have  talked," 
said  Varney,  "  I  have  knocked  thirty  years  off  your 
age.  But  much  remains  to  be  told  —  and  that  is  the 
game.  Are  you  dark  ?  " 

"Are  you  punning?" 

"This  is  no  punning  matter,"  he  said;  and  began 
his  third  exploration  of  himself  for  a  match.  And 
above  them  the  water  continued  to  thud  upon  the  roof 
like  a  torrent  broken  out  of  a  dam. 

"  This  is  too  bad !  "  breathed  the  lady  impatiently, 
and  plainly  she  was  not  speaking  to  Varney.  "  I  be 
lieve  it 's  coming  down  harder  and  harder  every 
minute !  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  cheerfully,  "  the  good  old  rain 
is  at  it  in  earnest.  We  're  probably  fixed  for  hours  and 


A  LADY   IN  THE   DARK  67 

hours.  I  might  argue,  you  know,"  he  added,  "  that  I 
have  a  right  to  know  these  things.  The  box  of 
matches  I  just  gave  away  like  a  madman  would  have 
told  me,  and  no  questions  asked.  Matches  and  lamps 
you  have  none,  but  such  as  you  have  — 

"  Could  you  not  talk  of  something  else,  please?  " 

Varney  laughed.  "  Certainly,  if  I  must.  Only 
I  Ve  been  rather  generous  about  this,  I  think,  showing 
you  my  hand  and  giving  you  the  chance  to  laugh  at 
me.  You  see,  for  all  I  know  you  may  be  fifty-two, 
after  all.  Or  even  sixty-two  —  Oh,  glory!  Halle 
lujah!" 

"  What  on  earth  is  the  matter?  " 

"  Oh,  nothing !  Nothing  at  all !  Just  I  have  found 
a  match.  That's  all!" 

"A  match!  Splendid!"  she  cried,  and  her  voice 
suddenly  seemed  to  come  from  a  higher  point  in  the 
darkness,  as  though  she  had  risen.  "  Just  one !  Oh, 
we  —  you  must  be  extremely  careful  with  it." 

"  The  trouble  is,"  he  said  with  exaggerated  dejec 
tion,  "  it  's  pretty  wet.  I  don't  know  whether  it  will 
strike  or  not." 

"  You  must  tnake  it  strike.  Oh,  it  will  be  —  unpar 
donable —  if  you  don't  make  it  strike!" 

"  Then  I  '11  throw  my  soul  into  the  work.  I  '11  con 
centrate  my  whole  will-power  upon  it.  On  the  back  of 
this  chair  here  —  shall  I  ?  " 

"  All  right.  I  '11  concentrate  too.  Are  —  you 
ready?" 

"  Ready  it  is,"  said  Varney. 

Gently  he  drew  the  match  across  the  rough  wood  of 


68         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

the  chair-back,  his  ear  all  eager  expectancy  —  and 
nothing  happened.  Thrice  he  did  this  fruitless  thing, 
and  something  told  him  that  a  large  section  of  the 
sulphur  had  been  rubbed  away  into  eternity. 

"  It 's  nip  and  tuck,"  he  breathed,  stifling  an  im 
pulse  to  laugh.  "  Nip  and  tuck !  " 

Pressing  the  match's  diminished  head  firmly  against 
the  wood,  he  drew  it  downward  vigorously  and  long. 
There  was  a  faint  crackle,  a  little  splutter,  and  —  glory 
of  glories !  —  a  tiny  flame  faltered  out  into  the 
darkness. 

"Oh  — be  careful!" 

Varney  cupped  his  hand  about  the  little  flare,  and 
for  a  moment  ceased  to  breathe.  Then  it  caught  more 
fully,  and  it  was  evident  to  both  that  the  victory  was 
won. 

He  had  meant  to  look  instantly  about  for  lamp  or 
candle  to  light;  but  if  all  his  future  happiness  had 
hinged  upon  it,  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  could  not 
have  helped  one  glance  at  the  lady  who  shared  that 
shelter  and  that  match  with  him. 

She  stood  a  few  feet  away,  regarding  him  breath 
lessly,  hatted,  gloved,  all  in  white,  one  hand  resting 
lightly  on  the  center-table,  one  folded  about  the  crook 
of  a  dainty  draggled  parasol.  The  match  threw  a 
small  and  ghostly  light,  but  he  saw  her,  and  she  wore 
no  veil. 

"Why  — why  — I  —  " 

"  Oh,  quick !     There  's  a  lamp  just  behind  you." 

He  caught  himself  with  a  start.  By  incredible  luck 
a  lamp  was  at  his  very  elbow ;  as  it  was  the  match 


A   LADY   IN   THE   DARK  69 

died  on  the  wick.  He  put  back  the  chimney  and  shade, 
turned  up  the  wick,  and  the  room  was  bathed  in  golden 
light. 

It  was  a  good-sized  room,  evidently  newly  fur 
nished  and  as  neat  as  a  bandbox.  The  empty  book-case 
on  which  the  lamp  rested  was  of  handsome  quartered 
oak,  which  transiently  struck  him  as  curious.  But  in 
the  next  instant  he  turned  away  and  forgot  all  about  it. 

The  lady  stood  where  she  had  risen  and  was  re 
garding  him  without  a  word.  The  lamplight  fell  full 
upon  her.  He  came  nearer,  and  his  waning  assurance 
shook  him  like  a  pennant  in  the  wind  and  was  sud 
denly  gone.  The  sense  of  camaraderie  which  the  dark 
had  given  faded ;  his  easy  friendliness  left  him ;  and 
he  was  an  embarrassed  young  man  face  to  face  with  a 
girl  whose  sudden  beauty  seemed  to  overwhelm  him 
with  the  knowledge  that  he  did  not  so  much  as  know 
her  name. 

"  None  of  my  thumbnail  sketches,"  he  faltered, 
"  made  you  look  like  this." 

She  had  rested  her  wet  parasol  against  the  table, 
where  a  slow  pool  gathered  at  the  ferrule,  and  was 
pulling  on  more  trimly  her  long  white  gloves.  Now 
she  looked  at  him  rather  quizzically,  though  her  young 
eyes  reflected  something  of  his  own  unsteadying 
embarrassment. 

"No,"  she  said,  "I  shall  not  be  sixty-two  for  — 
for  some  time  yet.     But  of  course  it  was  a  game  - 
a  pastime  —  where  I  had  a  —  little  the  advantage.    Do 
you  know,  I  —  I  am  not  entirely  surprised,  after  all." 


yo         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  Oh,  are  n't  you  ?  "  he  said,  completely  mystified, 
but  as  charmed  by  her  smile  as  he  was  by  the  subtle 
change  in  her  manner  which  had  come  with  the  light 
ing  of  that  match. 

"  And  it  it'cis  nice  of  you  to  tell  me  that  polite 
story  at  the  beginning,"  she  said.  "  And  quick  —  and 
clever.  When  I  heard  the  front  door  burst  open,  the 
first  thing  I  thought  of,  really,  was  that  it  must  be 
you." 

"  I  can't  think,"  he  said,  unable  to  take  his  eyes  off 
her,  "  what  in  the  world  you  are  talking  about." 

She  laughed  with  something  of  an  effort,  and  sat 
down  exquisitely  in  a  cruel  cane  chair.  "  Well,  then  - 
do  you  forgive  me  for  taking  possession  of  your  house 
like  this  ?  You  will,  won't  you  ?  I  can't  be  silly,  now, 
and  pretend  not  to  know  you.  But  really  I  never 
dreamed  that  you  - 

"  Is  it  possible,"  he  broke  in  stormily,  "  that  you  are 
mistaking  me  for  that  insufferable  Stanhope?" 

She  looked  at  him  startled,  dum founded;  in  her 
eyes  amazement  mingled  with  embarrassment;  then 
her  brow  wrinkled  into  a  slow,  doubtful  smile. 

"  Oh-h  —  I  beg  your  pardon !     I  —  did  n't  under 
stand.     But  is  it  my  fault  that  I  Ve  seen  your  picture 
a  hundred  times?     Yes,  I  suppose  it  is;    for,  at  the 
risk  of  making  you  crosser  still,  I  '11  confess  that  I 
-  I  cut  it  out  and  framed  it." 

Varney  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  mantel  and  faced 
her. 

''  You  have  made  a  mistake,"  he  said.  "  I  am  not 
Mr.  Stanhope." 


A   LADY   IN   THE   DARK  71 

"  You  mean,"  she  laughed,  very  pretty  and  pink, 
"  that  it  is  no  affair  of  mine  that  you  are." 

A  kind  of  desperation  seized  him.  It  was  evident 
that  she  did  not  believe  him,  just  as  Coligriy  Smith  had 
not  believed  him,  and  the  plump  young  woman  of  the 
grocery  who  had  used  his  Christian  name.  He  was 
almost  ready  not  to  believe  himself.  However,  there 
were  cards  in  his  pocket ;  he  got  one  of  them  out,  and 
coming  nearer,  handed  it  to  her. 

"  My  name  is  Laurence  Varney,"  he  said  mechani 
cally,  for  that  slogan  seemed  fated  to  meet  skeptics 
everywhere.  "  I  am  from  New  York  and  have  hap 
pened  to  come  up  here  on  a  friend's  yacht  to  —  to 
spend  a  few  days.  You  have  made  a  mistake." 

She  took  the  card,  held  it  lightly  in  her  gloved  hand, 
bowed  to  him  with  mocking  courtesy. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  meet  you  —  Mr.  Laurence  Var 
ney  !  I  —  I  am  from  New  York,  too,  and  have  hap 
pened  to  come  up  here  on  the  New  York  Central  with 
my  mother  to  spend  a  few  years.  And  I  live  in  a 
white  house  half  a  mile  down  the  road,  where  I  ought 
to  have  been  an  hour  ago.  And  I  am  Mary  Carstairs, 
who  has  read  all  your  books  and  thinks  that  they  - 
Oh  "  -  she  broke  off  all  at  once :  for  there  was  no 
missing  the  look  in  his  astounded  face.  "  What  in 
the  world  have  I  said  now  ?  " 

"You  —  can't  be  —  Mary  Carstairs!"    he  cried. 

"Is  —  that  so  terrible?"  she  laughed,  a  little  un 
certainly. 


CHAPTER    VII 

IN    WHICH    MARY    CARSTAIRS    IS    INVITED    TO    THE 
YACHT    "  CYPRIANI  " 

But  he  recovered  in  a  flash,  aware  of  the  criticalness 
of  that  moment,  and  met  her  bewildered  gaze  steadily. 

"Terrible?  Certainly  not.  Your  name  surprised 
me  a  little.  That  was  all.  I  thought,  you  see,  that  you 
were  somebody  else." 

"Yes?    Who?" 

"  I  really  —  do  not  know  exactly.  Do  forgive  my 
stupidity,  won't  you?  As  I  say,  I  was  just  a  little 
surprised." 

"  You  would  explain  to  a  man,"  she  said,  "  and 
don't  you  think  you  ought  to  to  me?  If  you  did  not 
know  exactly  who  you  thought  I  was,  why  should  my 
name  surprise  you  so  ?  " 

He  picked  up  a  hideous  china  swan  from  a  smart 
little  oak  stand  and  examined  it  with  excessive  interest. 

"  It  was  merely  that  I  happen  to  know  some  one  in 
New  York  who  had  mentioned  you  —  and  done  it  in 
a  way  to  make  me  think  you  were  not  —  very  old. 
In  fact,  I  had  supposed  that  Miss  Mary  Carstairs  wore 
short  dresses  and  a  plait  down  her  back.  You  see," 
he  said,  with  a  well-planned  smile,  "  how  absurdly 
wrong  I  was.  And  then,  just  now,  somebody  pointed 
out  your  house  to  me.  There  was  a  girl  standing  in 
the  doorway  —  a  small,  dark  girl,  with  — 


MARY   CARSTAIRS   IS   INVITED  73 

A  peal  like  chimes  cut  him  short.  "  Dear  Jenny 
Thurston!  Our  seamstress's  little  girl.  She  is  spend 
ing  the  day  with  my  mother,  while  I  've  been  spending 
most  of  the  day  with  her  mother!  Turn  about! 
But  I  wish  you  'd  tell  me,"  she  said,  "  who  it  is  that 
could  have  spoken  of  me  —  to  you.  How  interesting 
that  we  have  a  friend  in  common !  " 

"  Not  a  friend,"  he  said  grimly,  at  the  window. 
"  Only  a  former  —  acquaintance  of  yours  —  somebody 
that  I  imagine  you  have  pretty  well  forgotten.  I  '11 
tell  you  —  another  time.  But  I  see  it  has  stopped 
raining,  Miss  —  Miss  —  Miss  Carstairs.  Perhaps  we 
had  better  take  advantage  of  the  lull  to  start?  —  for  I 
hope  you  are  going  to  let  me  act  for  Mr.  Hare,  and 
walk  home  wih  you." 

"  Oh  —  would  you !  Then  indeed  we  had !  "  she 
said  rising  at  once.  "  I  am  horribly  late  now :  I  know 
my  mother  is  frantic.  I  don't  mind  your  not  telling 
me  that,  really !  But  —  it  is  odd  that  you  should  have 
spoken  of  my  age  twice  to-night.  Shall  I  tell  you 
something,  Mr.  Stanhope  —  to  show  you  why  I  have 
had  to  give  up  pigtails?  This  is  my  birthday:  I  am 
nineteen  to-day!  " 

She  raised  her  eyes,  shining,  heavy-fringed,  deep  as 
the  sea  and  bluer,  and  looked  at  him.  His  own  fell  in 
stantly.  A  shade  of  annoyance  flitted  across  his  still 
face. 

"  It  is  a  delightful  surprise,"  he  said,  mechanically. 
"  But  you  must  not  call  me  Mr.  Stanhope,  please, 
Miss  Carstairs." 

"  Why  —  may  n't  I  call  you  by  your  name?  " 


74         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  My  name,"  said  Varney,  "  in  fairly  legible  print, 
is  on  the  card  which  you  hold  in  your  hand." 

She  raised  her  eyes  and  looked  at  him,  perplexed, 
hesitating,  a  little  mortified,  like  one  who  has  encoun 
tered  an  unlooked-for  rebuff.  "  Forgive  me,"  she 
ventured  rather  shyly,  "  but  do  you  think  it  would  be 
possible  for  you  to  —  to  keep  an  incog  here  —  where 
you  must  have  so  many  friends?  If  you  want  to  do 
that  —  to  try  it  —  of  course  I  '11  not  tell  a  soul.  But 
I'd  like  it  very  much  if  you  could  trust  —  me,  who 
have  known  you  through  your  books  for  so  long." 

"  I  should  be  quite  willing  to  trust  you,  Miss  Car- 
stairs,  but  there  is  nothing1  to  trust  you  about.  I  am 
not  incog.  I  am  not  the  author.  I  have  written  no 
books  whatever  - 

"Ah!  Then  good-bye,"  she  said  with  a  swift 
change  of  manner,  starting  at  once  for  the  door.  "  I 
shall  not  trouble  you  to  walk  home  \vith  me.  Thank 
you  again  for  giving  me  shelter  and  light  during  the 
storm." 

"  Will  you  be  good  enough  to  wait  one  minute?  " 

She  paused  with  one  gloved  hand  on  the  knob,  cool, 
resolute,  a  little  angry,  the  blue  battery  of  her  eyes 
fixing  him  across  her  white  embroidered  shoulder. 
But  he  had  turned  away,  hands  thrust  deep  into  the 
pockets  of  his  coat,  brow  rumpled  into  a  frown,  jaw 
set  to  anathema  of  the  plight  in  which  a  needless  for 
tune  had  plunged  him. 

If  he  let  Uncle  Elbert's  daughter  go  like  this,  he 
might  as  well  put  the  Cypriani  about  at  once  for  New 
York,  for  he  knew  that  he  would  never  have  the  chance 


MARY   CARSTAIRS   IS   INVITED  75 

to  talk  with  her  again.  With  engaging  young  friend 
liness  which  overrode  reserve,  she  had  been  moved  to 
ask  his  confidence,  and  he  had  angered  her,  even  hurt 
her  feelings,  it  seemed,  by  appearing  to  withhold  it. 
In  return  she  had  thrown  down  the  issue  before  him, 
immediate  and  final.  Abstract  questions  of  morals, 
and  there  were  new  ones  of  great  seriousness  now, 
would  have  to  wait.  Should  he  allow  her  to  think 
that  he  was  another  man,  or  should  he  bid  her  good 
bye  and  abandon  his  errand? 

There  was  no  alternative :  she  had  made  that  un 
mistakable.  His  oath  to  her  father  came  suddenly 
into  his  mind.  After  all,  was  it  not  a  little  absurd  to 
boggle  over  one  small  deception  when  the  whole  en 
terprise,  as  now  suddenly  revealed,  was  to  be  nothing 
but  one  continuous  and  colossal  one? 

"  Miss  —  Miss  Carstairs,"  said  Varney,  "  with  you 
I  shall  not  argue  this.  I  am  going  to  let  you  think  I 
am  whoever  you  want.  We  need  n't  say  anything 
more  about  it,  need  we?  Only  —  I  '11  ask  you  to  call 
me  by  the  name  I  gave  you,  please,  and,  so  far  as  you 
can,  to  regard  me  that  way.  Is  that  —  a  bargain?" 

Mary  Carstairs  stood  at  the  threshold  of  the  lighted 
room,  looking  at  him  from  under  her  wide  white  hat, 
eyes  shining,  lips  smiling,  cheeks  faintly  flushed  with 
a  sense  of  the  triumph  she  had  won. 

"  Of  course,"  she  said.  "  And  I  don't  think  you  '11 
need  ever  be  sorry  for  having  trusted  me  —  Mr. 
Varney! " 

He  bowed  stiffly.  "If  you  will  kindly  open  the 
door,  I  will  blow  out  the  lamp  and  give  myself  the 
pleasure  of  taking  you  home." 


76          CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

They  left  the  hospitable  cottage  of  Ferris  Stanhope, 
and  went  out  into  the  night,  side  by  side,  Varney  and 
Mary  Carstairs.  The  young  man's  manner  was  de 
ceptively  calm,  but  his  head  was  in  a  whirl.  However, 
the  one  vital  fact  about  the  situation  stood  out  in  his 
mind  like  a  tower  set  on  a  hill.  This  was  that  Uncle 
Elbert's  daughter  was  walking  at  his  elbow,  on  terms 
of  acquaintanceship  and  understanding.  The  thing 
had  happened  with  stunning  unexpectedness,  but  it 
had  happened,  and  the  game  was  on.  The  next  move 
was  his  own,  and  what  better  moment  for  making  it 
would  he  ever  have? 

The  road  was  dark  and  wet.  Rain-drops  from  the 
trees  fell  upon  them  as  they  walked,  gathered  pools 
splashed  shallowly  under  their  feet.  Suddenly  Var 
ney  said : 

"  Do  you  happen  to  be  interested  in  yachts,  Miss 
Carstairs?  Mine  is  anchored  just  opposite  your  house, 
I  believe,  and  it  would  be  a  pleasure  to  show  her  to 
you  sometime." 


CHAPTER    VIII 

CONCERNING   MR.    FERRIS   STANHOPE,   THE   POPULAR 
NOVELIST;    ALSO   PETER,,   THE  QUIET   ONLOOKER 

Peter  had  not  yet  returned  to  the  yacht  when  Var- 
ney  went  to  bed  that  night.  Like  the  Finnegan  of  song, 
he  was  gone  again  when  Varney  rose  next  morning. 
Indeed,  it  was  only  too  clear  that  his  Celtic  interests 
had  been  suddenly  engrossed  by  matters  much  nearer 
his  heart  than  the  prospect,  as  he  saw  the  thing,  of 
spanking  a  naughty  child. 

"  He  was  off  by  half-past  eight,  sir,"  the  steward, 
McTosh,  told  Varney  at  breakfast.  "  He  said  to  tell 
you  to  give  yourself  no  uneasiness,  sir;  that  he  was 
only  going  to  Mr.  Hare's  —  I  think  was  the  name  — 
for  a  short  call,  and  would  return  by  ten  o'clock." 

"What  else  did  he  say?" 

"  Well,  sir,  he  was  saying  how  the  poltix  of  the 
village  is  not  all  they  might  be,  but  he  seemed  very 
cheerful,  sir,  and  took  three  times  to  the  chops." 

At  dinner-time  last  night  such  extraordinary  be 
havior  from  his  fellow-conspirator  would  have  both 
disturbed  and  angered  Varney.  At  breakfast-time 
this  morning  it  hardly  interested  him.  He  had  em 
ployed  his  walk  from  the  cottage  of  refuge  to  the 
Carstairs  front  gate  to  unbelievable  advantage.  In 
fact,  his  mission  in  Hunston  seemed  to  be  all  over 


78         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

but  the  shouting,  and  until  the  moment  of  final  action 
arrived,  there  appeared  no  reason  why  Peter  should 
not  employ  his  time  in  any  way  he  saw  fit. 

The  heavy  storm  had  scoured  the  air,  and  the  world 
was  bright  as  a  new  pin.  In  the  shaded  solitude  of 
the  after-deck,  Mr.  Carstairs's  agent  sat  in  an  easy- 
chair  with  a  cigarette,  and  thought  over  the  remark 
able  happenings  of  his  first  night  in  Hunston.  In 
retrospect  young  Editor  Smith  seemed  to  be  but  the 
ordered  instrument  of  fate,  dispatched  in  a  rowboat 
to  draw  him  against  his  will  from  the  yacht  to  the 
town,  where  all  his  business  was  neatly  arranged  for 
his  doing.  Certainly  it  appeared  as  if  the  hand  of 
intelligent  destiny  must  have  been  in  it  somewhere. 
No  mere  blind  luck  could  have  driven  him  half  a  mile 
into  the  country  to  the  one  spot  in  all  Hunston  - 
impossibly  unlikely  as  it  was  —  where  he  could  be 
come  acquainted  with  Uncle  Elbert's  daughter  without 
the  formality  of  an  introduction. 

Uncle  Elbert !  How  desperately  the  old  man  must 
desire  his  daughter  to  have  planned  a  mad  scheme 
like  this  with  a  subterfuge  at  the  expense  of  his  best 
friend  cunningly  hidden  away  in  the  heart  of  it.  Yet, 
after  the  first  staggering  flash,  Varney  had  found  it 
impossible  to  be  angry  with  Mr.  Carstairs.  He  only 
felt  sorry  for  him,  sorrier  than  he  had  ever  felt  for 
anybody  in  his  life.  The  old  man's  madness  and  his 
deceit  were  but  the  measure  of  his  desire  for  his 
daughter.  And  the  more  he  desired  her,  so  it  seemed 
to  Varney,  the  more  he  was  entitled  to  have  her. 

Interrupting     his     meditations,     the     steward     ap- 


CONCERNING   MR.   STANHOPE  79 

preached  on  silent  feet,  bearing  a  flat  brown-paper 
package  in  his  hand.  It  appeared  that  the  under- 
steward  had  just  returned  from  a  marketing  tour  in 
Hunston,  had  met  Mr.  Maginnis  on  the  street,  and 
been  ordered  to  take  back  the  parcel  to  Mr.  Varney. 

"  All  right,  McTosh,"  said  Varney. 

He  broke  the  string  with  some  curiosity  and  pulled 
off  the  wrappers.  Within  was  nothing  but  a  copy  of 
a  current  literary  monthly. 

A  present  of  a  magazine  from  Peter!  This  was  a 
delicate  apology  for  his  remissness,  indeed.  "  He  will 
be  sending  me  chocolates  next,"  thought  Varney,  not  a 
little  puzzled. 

He  turned  the  pages  curiously.  Soon,  observing  a 
bit  of  brown  \vrapping-paper  sticking  out  between  the 
leaves,  he  opened  the  magazine  at  that  point  and  found 
himself  looking  at  a  picture;  and  he  sat  still  and  stared 
at  it  for  a  long  time. 

It  was  the  full-page  portrait  of  a  young  man  of 
some  thirty  years :  a  rather  thin  young  man  with  a 
high  forehead,  a  straight  nose,  and  a  smallish  chin. 
The  face  w:as  good-looking,  but  somehow  not  quite 
attractive.  About  the  eyes  was  an  expression  faintly 
unpleasant,  which  the  neat  glasses  did  not  hide.  On 
the  somewhat  slack  lip  was  a  slight  twist,  not  agree 
able,  which  the  well-kept  mustache  could  not  conceal. 
Still  it  was  an  interesting  face,  clever,  assured,  half- 
insolent.  To  Varney,  it  was  exceptionally  interest 
ing;  for  removing  the  mustache  and  eye-glasses,  it 
might  have  passed  anywhere  for  his  own. 

Below  the  portrait  was  printed  this  legend : 


8o        CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

FERRIS  STANHOPE. 

The  popular  author  of  "  Rosamund,"  etc.,  who  will  re 
open  the  old  Stanhope  cottage  near  Hunston,  New  York, 
and  spend  the  autumn  there  upon  a  new  novel. 

Mr.  Stanhope's  health  has  not  been  good  of  late,  and 
his  physicians  have  recommended  an  extended  stay  in 
this  quiet  Hudson  River  country. 

Here  was  that  "  Mr.  Ferris,"  whom  the  young  lady 
of  the  grocery  had  coyly  saluted ;  the  "  Beany,"  whom 
the  pale  young  editor  had  bluntly  bidden  to  leave 
town;  and  the  literary  celebrity  whom  Miss  Mary  Car- 
stairs  so  evidently  and  so  warmly  admired.  Varney 
stared  at  the  portrait  with  a  kind  of  fascination.  Now 
he  saw  many  points  of  difference  between  the  face  of 
"  the  popular  author  "  and  his  own.  The  resemblance 
was  only  general,  after  all.  Still  it  was  undoubtedly 
strong  enough  to  warrant  all  kinds  of  mistakes. 

What  a  very  extraordinary  sort  of  thing  to  have 
happen ! 

Suddenly  his  eye  fell  upon  a  penciled  line  in  the 
white  margin  above  the  picture  which  had  at  first 
escaped  him : 

"  On  no  account  leave  the  yacht  till  I  come  back. 
Vitally  important." 

Varney  pitched  the  magazine  across  the  deck  with 
an  irritated  laugh.  Peter  —  utterly  ignorant  of  how 
matters  stood  —  attempting  to  fire  off  long-distance 
orders  and  direct  his  movements.  The  splendid  gall! 

As  it  chanced,  he  had  no  occasion  to  leave  the  yacht, 


CONCERNING  MR.   STANHOPE  81 

either  before  or  after  Peter  got  back.  His  work  was 
done.  He  made  himself  comfortable  with  morning 
papers  and  a  novel  —  not  one  of  Mr.  Stanhope's  — 
and  began  to  seek  beguilement. 

But  his  reading  went  forward  rather  fitfully.  There 
were  long  intervals  when  his  book,  "eleventh  printing" 
though  it  was,  slipped  forgotten  to  his  knees,  and  he 
sat  staring  thoughtfully  over  the  sunny  water.  .  .  . 

Peter  failed  to  keep  his  promise  about  returning  to 
the  yacht  at  ten  o'clock.  In  fact,  it  was  four  o'clock 
that  afternoon  when  he  arrived,  and  at  that,  the  man 
ner  in  which  he  sprang  up  the  stair  indicated  him  as 
a  man  who  had  but  few  moments  to  spare  to  yachts 
and  that  sort  of  thing. 

Varney,  at  his  ease  upon  the  transom,  watched  his 
friend's  approach  with  a  quizzical  eye. 

"  Greetings,  old  comrade !  How  did  you  leave  them 
all  in  Hunston?  " 

Peter,  who,  truth  to  tell,  had  been  looking  forward 
to  bitter  personal  denunciation,  looked  somewhat  re 
lieved,  and  laughed.  However,  his  manner  suggested 
little  of  hang-dog  consciousness  of  guilt;  it  was  far 
too  absorbed  and  business-like  for  that.  He  dropped 
down  into  a  chair  by  Varney  and  swabbed  the  back  of 
his  neck  with  a  damp-looking  handkerchief. 

"  Larry,  who  'd  have  dreamed  last  night  that  we 
were  parting  for  all  this  time  ?  " 

"  Well,  not  I  for  one." 

"  Awfully  sorry  about  it  all,  and  I  know  you  '11 
think  I  'm  acting  like  a  funny  kind  of  helper.  I 

6 


82         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

had  n't  the  faintest  idea  of  bottling  you  up  on  the  yacht 
all  day  like  this,  but  —  well,  you  might  say,  Larry, 
that  a  man  could  n't  help  it  to  save  his  life.  I  cer 
tainly  meant  to  be  back  by  the  time  you  had  finished 
breakfast  and  explain  the  whole  situation  to  you  — 
there  are  a  deuced  lot  of  complications,  you  know  — 
but  one  thing  led  right  on  to  another  and  —  good 
Lord !  I  could  n't  find  a  minute  with  a  fine-tooth 
comb." 

"  It  's  all  right,  statesman.  You  don't  hear  me  mak 
ing  any  complaints.  All  I  ask  is  a  little  resume  of 
what  you  've  been  doing  since  you  so  cleverly  lost  me. 
In  Reform  to  the  ears,  I  suppose?  " 

Peter  again  looked  rather  surprised  at  his  chief's 
easy  indifference. 

"You  want  that  part  of  it  first?  Well,"  he  said 
rapidly,  "  I  Ve  been  trying  to  do  four  days'  work  for 
Reform  in  one,  and  a  pinch  it 's  been  to  make  both 
ends  meet,  I  can  tell  you.  At  it  practically  without  a 
break  since  I  left  you  last  night.  J.  Pinkney  took  me 
right  in  and  bared  his  soul.  Said  he  was  down  and 
out  and  beaten  to  a  fluid.  A  clever  little  devil  fast 
enough,  but  no  more  idea  of  how  to  play  the  game 
that  a  baby  baboon.  When  he  caught  on  to  what  I 
wanted  to  do  for  him,  he  would  have  fallen  on  my 
neck  except  that  he  is  n't  that  kind.  That  was  this 
morning.  I  worked  out  my  idea  in  the  still  watches : 
could  n't  sleep  for  thinking  of  it.  It  just  means  this : 
if  my  plans  carry  through  Hare  gets  the  biggest  hear 
ing  to-night  that  this  old  town  can  give.  And  I  think 
they  '11  carry  all  right.  You  would  n't  be  interested 
in  the  details.  Now  this  other  thing- 


CONCERNING  MR.   STANHOPE  83 

"  Oh,  but  I  would,  though !  Give  me  at  least  a 
peep  behind  the  scenes  before  you  dash  on.  What 
about  these  plans  of  yours?" 

Peter  laid  down  the  newspaper  with  which  he  had 
been  busily  fanning  himself.  A  sudden  light  came  into 
his  eyes. 

"  I  '11  tell  you  just  how  it  all  happened,"  he  said  in 
an  eager  voice.  "  Only  I  '11  have  to  hurry,  as  I  'm  due 
back  in  town  right  away  —  that  is,  of  course,  unless 
you  should  need  me  for  anything.  Well,  I  left  Hare 
last  night  after  only  a  couple  of  hours'  talk,  listening 
to  the  same  old  story  of  boss-rule,  and  giving  him,  if 
I  do  say  it,  some  cracking  good  practical  pointers. 
By  the  way,  we  were  interrupted  at  that.  Had  n't  got 
started  before  Hare  remembered  that  he  'd  promised 
to  bring  some  girl  home  from  somewhere,  and 
dragged  me  off  a  mile  down  the  road,  only  to  find  out 
afterwards  that  she  'd  gone  home  with  somebody  else. 
Made  me  tired.  I  left  him  about  ten  o'clock  and 
started  down  Main  Street  for  the  river,  meaning  to 
come  straight  back  here.  But  as  I  was  footing  it 
along,  thinking  over  my  talk  with  Hare  and  attending 
to  my  o\vn  business,  who  should  brace  me  but  that 
pale-faced  rascal  we  saw  playing  dead  in  the  rowboat. 
This  time  the  poseur  was  lying  flat  on  some  packing- 
cases  in  front  of  a  store,  and  who  do  you  suppose 
he  turned  out  to  be?" 

'  The  brains  of  the  machine,"  said  Varney. 

He  told  briefly  of  his  own  meeting  with  Coligny 
Smith  at  the  same  spot  two  hours  earlier,  and  of  the 
editor's  stagey  warnings. 


84        CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  Exactly  the  way  he  did  me !"  cried  Peter.  "  Saved 
the  announcement  of  who  he  was  for  the  grand  finale 
in  Act  V.  I  got  mad  as  a  wet  hen,  told  him  what  I 
thought  of  him  in  simple  language,  and  then  when 
the  grafter  twitted  me  to  go  and  do  something  about 
it,  I  broke  loose  and  swore  that  I  'd  make  Hare 
Mayor  of  Hunston  if  I  had  to  buy  the  little  two-by- 
twice  town  to  do  it.  Told  him  to  pack  his  trunk,  for 
all  the  crooks  would  soon  be  traveling  toward  the 
timber.  So  then  I  turned  right  around,  hiked  back 
to  Hare's,  told  him  what  I  'd  done,  gave  him  my  hand 
on  it,  and  pulled  out  the  old  family  check-book.  This 
morning  I  went  to  him  and  laid  before  him  the  great 
est  scheme  that  ever  was.  You  know  Hare  can't  get 
a  hall  to  speak  in  for  love  or  money  —  nobody  dares 
rent  him  one;  he  can't  buy  an  inch  of  space  in  the 
Gazette;  he  can't  put  spreads  on  the  billboards  with 
out  having  'em  pasted  out  in  the  night.  To-night  the 
whole  thing  's  been  done  for  him  —  Ryan's  big  town- 
meeting.  Well,  we  're  going  to  try  to  sivipe  that 
meeting  —  do  you  see  ?  I  'm  getting  in  some  husky 
fellows  from  New  York  to  see  fair  play,  and  so  on. 
Oh,  it 's  a  bully  chance  —  you  can  see !  I  've  spent  a 
nice  bunch  of  father's  money  working  the  scheme  up, 
and,  by  George !  I  believe  we  are  going  to  get  by  with 
it.  If  we  do  —  well,  we  give  this  town  the  biggest 
shock  it 's  had  in  years,  and  that 's  the  way  reform 
begins,  Larry.  Shock!" 

Something  of  his  contagious  enthusiasm  spread  to 
and  fired  Varney.  Fate  had  thrown  in  their  way  a 
plucky  and  honest  man  engaged  in  an  apparently  hope- 


CONCERNING  MR.   STANHOPE  85 

less  fight  against  overwhelming  powers  of  darkness. 
He  deserved  help.  And  what  possible  risk  was  there 
now  when  the  Cypriani's  work  was  practically  done? 

"  I  can't  say,"  continued  Peter  dutifully,  "  that  this 
is  exactly  playing  the  quiet  onlooker,  as  my  orders 
read.  As  I  said  last  night,  I  consider  that  this  excur 
sion  into  politics  will  help  our  little  business,  not  inter 
fere  with  it.  It  will  divert  attention.  It  will  seem  to 
explain  why  we  are  here.  But  if  you  don't  agree  with 
me,  if  you  want  me  to  drop  it  —  " 

"  No,"  said  Varney,  slowly.     "  I  don't." 

"  Good  for  you,  old  sport !  "  cried  Peter,  evidently 
relieved.  "  Needless  to  say,  I  'm  right  on  the  job 
whenever  you  need  me.  And  nothing 's  going  to 
happen.  Trust  me.  Now  as  to  this  other  matter. 
You  got  that  magazine  I  sent  this  morning?  " 

"  Yes.  Thanks  for  the  picture  of  my  twin  brother. 
But  why  could  n't  I  leave  the  yacht  till  you  got  back?  " 

Peter  stared.  "  Why,  just  that,  of  course.  Deuced 
unfortunate  coincidence,  isn't  it?  Everybody  in 
town  is  going  to  think  that  you  are  this  fellow  Stan 
hope." 

"Well?" 

"  Well?  Oh,  I  forgot  —  you  have  n't  heard. 
Well,  from  the  stories  that  are  floating  round  town 
to-day,  Stanhope  is  a  cad  of  the  original  brand.  He 
was  born  here  —  lived  here  until  he  was  twenty-one 
or  two.  Women  were  his  trouble.  The  climax  came 
about  twelve  years  ago.  The  girl  was  named  Orrick 
-  Mamie  Orrick,  I  believe.  Nobody  knows  exactly 
what  became  of  her,  but  they  practically  ran  Stanhope 
out  of  the  town  then.  Well  —  there  it  is." 


86         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

He  paused  long  enough  to  light  one  of  his  Her 
culean  cigars,  employing  his  hat  as  a  wind-shield,  and 
rapidly  continued :  "  It 's  very  curious  and  strange, 
and  all  that,  but  there  it  is.  A  month  or  so  ago  the 
Gazette  announced  that  Stanhope  was  coming  back 
to  Hunston.  Last  night  you  were  seen  on  the  square, 
and  now  the  news  has  spread  like  wildfire  that  the 
author  has  arrived.  Hare  heard  a  lot  of  gossip  on 
the  street  to-day.  He  's  lived  here  only  a  few  years 
and  does  n't  know  anything  personally ;  but  he  says 
the  old  feeling  against  Stanhope  seems  to  have  re 
vived  as  though  it  had  all  happened  yesterday.  Orrick, 
the  girl's  father,  a  half-witted  old  dotard,  was  heard  to 
say  that  he  would  shoot  on  sight.  There  are  three 
or  four  others  besides  Orrick  who  've  got  personal 
grudges  too.  If  any  of  these  meet  you,  there  is  al 
most  sure  to  be  trouble.  How  is  that  for  a  little 
complication?  " 

"  And  this  was  the  reason  you  sent  me  word  to  lock 
myself  up  on  the  Cyprwni?  You  're  a  bird,  Peter. 
Not  that  it  made  any  difference,  but  I  ventured  to  sup 
pose  that  my  leaving  before  you  got  back  would  in 
terfere  with  some  plans  you  had  been  making  for  me, 
and  —  " 

"  It  would  interfere  with  some  plans  I  have  been 
making  for  you,  in  a  general  way,  to  have  you 
assassinated." 

"  Stuff.  Ten  to  one  all  these  stories  that  somebody 
has  been  so  careful  to  have  get  back  to  you  are  right 
out  of  the  whole  cloth  — 

"  What 's  the  use  of  setting  up  your  cranky  opinions 


CONCERNING   MR.    STANHOPE  87 

against  the  hard  facts  ?  The  plain  truth  is  that  every 
body  who  ever  heard  of  Stanhope  is  going  to  give  you 
the  cold  shoulder  for  a  dog;  we  can  depend  abso 
lutely  on  that." 

But  Varney  had  his  own  reasons  for  depending  on 
nothing  of  the  sort. 

'  You  've  been  imposed  upon,  Peter.  In  fact,  one 
of  the  population  mistook  me  for  the  author  last 
night,  and  instead  of  giving  me  the  cold  shoulder,  as 
you  say,  she  seemed  to  think  that  being  Stanhope  was 
the  best  credentials  that  a  man  could  have." 

"She?     Who 're  you  talking  about?" 

"  I  'm  talking  about  Uncle  Elbert's  daughter,  Miss 
Mary  Carstairs.  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  her 
last  night." 

"  The  devil  you  did !  "  cried  Peter,  laughing  with 
astonishment.  "  You  certainly  walk  off  with  the  prize 
for  prompt  results.  How  in  the  world  did  you  man 
age  it?" 

Varney  told  him  succinctly  how  he  had  managed  it. 

"  Fine !  Fine !  Honestly,  I  was  getting  afraid 
that  you  never  could  do  it  at  all,  with  the  rotten  rep 
utation  they've  pinned  on  you  here.  Good  enough! 
Still  it 's  absurd  to  cite  the  opinion  of  a  little  child  in 
a  matter  like  this." 

"  It  depends  upon  what  you  call  a  little  child, 
doesn't  it?  Miss  Carstairs  is  nineteen  years  old." 

Peter  straightened  in  his  chair  with  a  jerk,  and 
stared  at  him  as  though  one  or  the  other  had  suddenly 
gone  mad. 

"Nineteen!     Why,  I  thought  she  was  twelve." 


88         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  So  did  I." 

"  Why,  how  in  Sam  Hill  did  you  ever  make  such 
an  asinine  mistake?" 

Varney  gave  an  impatient  laugh. 

"  What  difference  does  that  make  now  ?  My  im 
pression  was  that  the  separation  took  place  about 
eight  years  ago.  It  may  have  been  twelve.  My  other 
impression  was  that  the  girl  was  about  four  at  the 
time.  She  may  have  been  eight  instead.  If  it's  of 
any  interest  to  you,  I  should  say  that  the  mistake  was 
natural  enough.  Besides,  Uncle  Elbert  rather  helped 
it  along." 

"  Uncle  Elbert  rather  lied  to  you  —  that 's  what  he 
did,"  said  Peter  with  the  utmost  quietness. 

There  was  a  considerable  silence.  Peter  pulled 
frowningly  at  his  cigar;  it  had  gone  out  but  he  was 
too  absorbed  to  notice  it,  and  mechanically  pulled  on. 
Presently  he  raised  his  head  and  looked  at  Varney. 

"Well?  This  ends  it,  I  suppose?  You'll  go  back 
to  New  York  this  afternoon?  " 

"  No,"  said  Varney,  "  I  'm  going  to  stay  and  carry 
it  through  just  as  I  expected." 

Peter  tapped  the  chair-arm  with  his  heavy  fingers. 
"Why?" 

"  Because — well,  I  promised  to,  and  on  the  strength 
of  my  promise,  Uncle  Elbert  has  gone  to  trouble  and 
expense  for  one  thing,  and  has  pinned  high  hopes  on 
me,  for  another.  I  had  my  chance  to  ask  questions 
and  make  terms  and  stipulations  —  and  I  did  n't  do 
it.  That  was  my  fault.  I  am  not  even  sure  that  he 
meant  to  deceive  me.  I  have  no  right  to  break  a  con- 


CONCERNING   MR.    STANHOPE  89 

tract  because  I  find  that  my  part  in  it  is  going  to  be 
harder  than  I  thought." 

"  This  business  about  her  age  changes  everything. 
Carstairs  has  no  legal  rights  over  a  nineteen-year-old 
daughter." 

"  Legal  rights !  My  dear  Peter,  you  never  sup 
posed  1  thought  I  was  doing  anything  legal,  did  you? 
No,  no;  the  moral  part  of  it  has  been  my  prop  and 
stay  all  along,  and  that  still  holds.  I  promised  with 
out  conditions,  and  I  '11  go  ahead  on  the  same  terms." 

"  Give  me  a  match,"  said  Peter  thoughtfully. 
"  Maybe  you  are  right,  Larry,"  he  added  presently. 
"  I  only  wanted  to  point  out  another  way  of  looking 
at  it.  I  stand  absolutely  by  your  decision.  You 
think  that  this  girl  is  wrong-headed  and  obstinate,  and 
that  her  father  has  a  moral  right  to  have  her,  over  age 
or  not.  This  —  discovery  makes  it  a  pretty  serious 
business,  but  of  course  you  've  thought  of  all  that. 
But  —  will  it  be  possible  now  ?  " 

"  I  have  invited  her,"  said  Varney,  with  a  light 
laugh,  "  to  lunch  on  the  Cypriani  on  Thursday  with 
two  or  three  other  Hunston  friends." 

"Well?" 

"  She  accepted  with  every  mark  of  pleasure. 
Great  men  like  Stanhope,  it  seems,  require  no  intro 
duction  :  it  beats  me.  The  point  now  is  to  find  the 
other  Hunston  friends." 

"  Hare  and  his  sister,  Mrs.  Marne  —  the  very  thing! 

—  chaperon  and  all !    I  '11  invite  them  to-night.    Then 

the  whole  thing  's  done !  "     Peter  sat  silent  a  moment, 

looking  at  Varney.     "  I  've  been  awfully  rushed  to- 


90         CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

day,"  he  resumed,  "  because  if  I  was  going  to  help 
Hare  at  all,  I  did  n't  dare  lose  this  one  big  oppor 
tunity.  But  remember,  anything  that  has  to  be  done 
from  now  on  —  I  'm  your  man." 

"  There  '11  be  nothing  more  now  until  Thursday. 
The  thing  's  practically  done." 

Peter  was  still  looking  at  him  steadily.  "  It  's  going 
to  be  dirt  easy,  provided  we  don't  weaken.  You 
can't  do  things  to  your  friends,  but  you  can  emphati 
cally  do  them  to  your  enemies.  We  have  got  to  re 
member  always  that  this  girl,  who  has  been  so  heart 
less  to  her  old  fool  of  a  father,  is  our  enemy." 

''  Yes,  that  is  what  we  have  got  to  remember." 

"  Good  Lord !  "  cried  Peter,  looking  at  his  watch. 
"  Twenty  minutes  past  four,  and  I  must  be  at  the  hall 
at  four-thirty  sharp.  I  '11  have  to  sneak  right  away. 
You  're  going  to  sit  tight  on  the  yacht,  of  course?  " 

"  Never!  I  like  to  have  a  little  of  the  fun  myself. 
I  must  certainly  take  in  this  meeting  to-night,  and 
watch  you  put  your  heel  on  their  necks  and  all  that." 

"  Don't !  With  what  you  Ye  got  to  do,  you  can't 
afford  to  expose  yourself.  What 's  the  use  of  run 
ning  risks,  even  little  ones,  when  there  is  nothing 
to  gain?  " 

"  Satan  reproving  sin!  Fudge!  Free  yourself  once 
for  all,  my  dear  sir,  that  I  'm  starring  in  The  Pris 
oner  on  the  Yacht  for  the  next  three  days,  or  any 
thing  of  that  sort." 

"  Well,  if  you  will  go,"  said  Peter,  reluctantly, 
"  here  's  a  reserved  seat  ticket  —  a  peacherine,  right 
up  at  the  front." 


CONCERNING   MR.   STANHOPE  91 

"  Great!     Count  on  me  to  lead  the  applause." 

Peter  rose.  His  engrossed  brow  advertised  the  fact 
that  his  thought  had  already  flown  back  to  his  own 
private  maelstrom  of  new  concerns. 

"  If  Hare  gets  his  chance  to-night,"  he  meditated 
out  loud,  "  you  can  rely  on  him  to  make  the  most  of 
it.  He  '11  make  good ;  he  's  a  man,  sound  in  wind 
and  limb,  head  and  heart.  I  do  wish,  though,  he 
was  n't  so  —  somehow  innocent  —  so  easy  —  so  con 
foundedly  affable  and  handshaking  with  everybody 
tli at  comes  along.  There  's  a  sneaky-looking  stranger 
at  the  hotel  —  rubber-heeled  fellow  named  Higginson, 
with  one  of  these  black  felt  hats  pulled  down  over  his 
eyes  like  a  stage  villain  —  that  Hare  never  laid  eyes 
on  till  to-day.  For  all  he  knows  the  man  may  be  an 
agent  of  Ryan's,  a  hired  spy  imported  to —  By 
Jove !  That 's  just  what  he  is,  I  '11  bet !  "  he  cried  sud 
denly;  and  after  a  frowning  pause,  hurried  warmly 
on :  "  Don't  you  remember  last  night,  just  after  we  hit 
the  town,  I  said  there  was  a  man  following  us  — 
sneaked  up  the  alley  when  he  saw  me  looking  at  him  ?  " 

"  I  believe  I  do,  Peter.  But  the  fact  is  that  I  met 
so  many  exciting  people  last  night  — 

"It's  the  same  man  —  it  was  Higginson!"  said 
Peter  positively.  "  I  'm  sure  of  it !  I  did  n't  get  a 
look  at  his  face  last  night,  but  it 's  the  same  hat, 
same  figure  —  everything.  I  '11  bet  anything  he  's  on 
Ryan's  payroll ;  and  there  's  little  Hare  hobnobbing 
with  him  as  friendly  as  though  they  'd  been  class 
mates  at  college !  That  kind  of  free-for-all  geniality 
does  n't  go,  you  know !  A  reformer  in  a  rotten  town 


92         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

like  this,"  said  Peter  vehemently  "  would  do  well  to 
cultivate  a  profound  distrust  of  strangers." 

Varney  burst  out  laughing. 

"  You  yourself  have  known  Hare  from  the  cradle, 
I  believe?" 

"  I  'm  different,"  said  Peter  without  a  smile. 
"Well!  I  must  move.  Now  let's  see  —  that  lunch. 
What  time  shall  I  ask  Hare  and  Mrs.  Marne  for?" 

"  Two  o'clock,  Thursday.  I  did  n't  have  the  nerve," 
Varney  explained,  "  to  ask  Miss  Carstairs  for  to-day  — 
rather  lucky  I  did  n't  —  and  she  was  engaged  for 
Thursday." 

"  Right.  I  '11  arrange  it  all.  Well,  for  the  Lord's 
sake  take  care  of  yourself  to-night,  Larry,  and  trust 
me  to  keep  out  of  trouble.  So  long." 

Varney  looked  after  Peter's  disappearing  back,  and 
envied  him  all  the  fun  he  was  having.  His  own  lot 
was  certainly  far  less  entertaining.  However,  it  was 
his  own;  and  here  he  resembled  his  friend  in  one  re 
spect  at  least.  His  thoughts,  like  Peter's,  had  a  way 
just  now  of  reverting  at  short  notice  to  the  matters  in 
which  he  himself  was  most  closely  concerned. 

He  lay  back  idly  among  the  cushions,  and  let  his 
mind  once  more  run  over  the  unexpected  problems  of 
his  situation. 

The  new  graveness  of  what  he  was  pledged  to  do 
had,  of  course,  been  strongly  present  in  his  mind 
from  the  first  moment  of  revelation.  Kidnapping  a 
nineteen-year-old  girl  was  certainly,  as  Peter  had 
pointed  out,  a  pretty  serious  business.  He  perceived 
that  it  would  not  look  well  in  the  papers  in  the  least. 


CONCERNING   MR.    STANHOPE  93 

Also  if  she  cared  to  raise  a  row  afterwards,  there 
might  be  an  aftermath  which  would  not  be  wholly  a 
laughing  matter. 

Nevertheless,  this  side  of  the  question  seemed  re 
mote  and  of  minor  interest  to  him  just  now.  The 
problem  appeared  to  be  a  personal  one,  not  a  question 
of  statutes  and  judges.  In  his  talk  with  Miss  Car- 
stairs  before  he  knew  her  by  name,  he  had  failed  to 
notice  anything  that  suggested  the  spoiled  and  wilful 
child  he  had  come  to  find.  He  could  remember  noth 
ing  she  had  said  or  done  that  helped  him  at  all  to 
think  of  her  as  his  enemy.  The  fact  was  that  it 
was  all  quite  the  other  way.  And  this  helped  him  to 
understand  now,  as  he  had  not  understood  before, 
why  Uncle  Elbert  had  begged  a  solemn  oath  from 
him  with  such  a  piteous  look  on  his  handsome,  hag 
gard  old  face. 


CHAPTER    IX 

VARNEY      MEETS      WITH      A     GALLING     REBUFF,      WHILE 
PETER    GOES    MARCHING    ON 

Peter's  pronounced  views  as  to  Air.  Stanhope  were 
not,  it  appeared,  purely  of  the  stuff  that  dreams  are 
made  of.  Testimony  to  the  author's  lack  of  popularity 
in  his  native  town  came  to  Varney  with  unexpected 
promptness. 

In  the  corner  of  the  square,  as  he  swung  along 
toward  the  Academy  Theatre  that  evening,  he  found 
himself  suddenly  confronted  by  a  man  who,  lounging 
against  the  fence  of  a  shabby  dwelling,  straightened 
dramatically  at  his  approach  and  bent  a  sharp  gaze 
upon  him.  He  was  a  tall,  shambling  fellow  with  a 
white  cloth  swathed  about  the  top  of  his  head;  and 
Varney,  in  the  act  of  passing,  suddenly  recognized  him 
as  the  dog  man,  whom  Peter  had  knocked  out  the 
night  before.  His  gaze  was  a  wanton  challenge  for 
the  young  man  to  stop,  and  Varney  cheerfully  accepted 
it. 

"  Why,   it 's  —  Mr.  —  er  —  Hackley,   is  n't   it  ?  " 
The  man's  bandage  left  only  one  eye  free  to  oper 
ate,   and  he  kept   this   upon   Varney  with  a   curious 
unwinking  stare. 

"  Yes,"  said  he  slowly,  "  I  'm  Hackley." 

"  How  'd  the  dog  come  out  ?  "    asked  Varney. 


A   GALLING  REBUFF  95 

"  Dead,"  said  Hackley,  as  quiet  in  mien  as  the 
Hackley  of  last  night  was  bellicose.  "  Dead  an' 
buried." 

"  I  'm  sorry,"  said  Varney,  his  glance  on  the  head- 
cloth.  "  The  man  who  did  the  kicking  was  a  friend 
of  mine,  and  he  would  n't  wrant  you  to  lose  your  dog 
without  some  compensation.  Er  —  please  accept  this 
with  his  compliments  and  regrets." 

Hackley,  his  single  washed-out  eye  starting  with 
pleasure,  accepted  the  proffered  note  with  a  gesture 
resembling  a  clutch,  investigated  its  size  in  the  dim 
light  with  hardly  concealed  delight,  and  pinned  it  into 
his  waistcoat  pocket  with  a  large  brass  safety-pin. 
Then  he  raised  his  head  slowly  and  looked  at  Varney. 

"  Why  n't  you  leave  town  to-n;ght,  Stanhope?" 
he  inquired  casually. 

Varney  started.  Almost  to  the  very  language  this 
was  exactly  what  Editor  Smith  had  suggested  to  him 
the  night  before. 

"  Why  do  you  call  me  Stanhope,  Hackley?  My 
name  happens  to  be  Laurence  Varney." 

Mr.  Hackley's  gaze  never  relaxed.  "  Chuck  it," 
he  said  without  emotion.  "  A  sensible  and  eddicated 
man,"  he  added  impersonally,  "  never  lies  when  a  lie 
could  n't  do  him  no  good.  If  I  was  you.  Stanhope, 
I  would  n't  lose  a  minute  in  cuttin'  loose  from  this 
town." 

"  If  I  were  Stanhope,  I  daresay  I  would  n't  either. 
But  suppose  I  were,"  he  added,  "  why  should  n't  I  stay 
here  if  I  wanted  to?  " 

"  For  one  reason,"   said  Mr.   Hackley  deliberately, 


96         CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  there  's  me.  When  I  'm  a-feelin'  myself,  there  ain't 
a  cammer,  a  more  genteel  nor  lor-abidin'  citizen  in 
Hunston.  As  for  fussin'  and  fightin',  I  'd  no  more 
think  of  it  than  a  dyin'  inverlid  in  the  orspitle.  But 
only  throw  a  few  drinks  under  my  belt  like  last  night, 
and  I  'm  a  altogether  different  creetur.  And  I  'm 
mighty  afraid  that  the  next  time  I  over-drink  myself 
and  don't  rightly  know  what  I  'in  doin',  I  '11  go  out 
after  you  with  a  club.  And  then  there  '11  be  trouble." 

"  But  why  should  you  want  to  go  after  Stanhope 
with  a  club?  What  did  he  ever  do  to  you?  " 

"  Don't  you  know  ?  I  married  Mamie  Orrick's 
little  sister!  " 

"  Most  interesting,"  said  Varney,  "  as  a  bit  of 
genealogy,  but  what 's  it  got  to  do  with  Stanhope  and 
the  club?" 

But  Mr.  Hackley  said  again,  cryptically :  "  Chuck 
it."  Then,  softened  by  the  young  man's  pleasant 
ways,  and  by  the  windfall  of  a  fortune  pinned  into 
his  vest:  "Be  sensible,  Stanhope,"  he  added  amiably. 
"  I  ain't  the  only  one.  Old  Orrick  's  heard  that 
you  've  hit  the  town  and  is  totin'  a  gun  and  talk- 
in'  wild.  And,  of  course,  there 's  others.  Don't 
jump  off  no  tall  builclin's,  I  say,  expectin'  Providence 
to  land  you  soft.  There  's  a  train  to  Noo  York  at 
eight-ten.  Cut  while  you  can !  " 

"  Why,  thanks,"  said  Varney,  laughing  and  start 
ing  on.  "HI  should  see  Mr.  Stanhope  at  any  time, 
I  won't  fail  to  pass  him  the  friendly  tip." 

"And  if  you  should  see  that  friend  o'  yourn," 
called  Hackley  after  him,  "  him  that  gimme  the  paste 


A    GALLING   REBUFF  97 

in  the  jor  —  you  c'n  just  tell  him  that  Jim  Hackley 
is  goin'  to  fix  you  both,  good!  " 

"  At  your  convenience,   Hackley." 

The  young  man  passed  on,  undisturbed  by  the  dog 
man's  quaint  menaces.  He  did  not  exactly  see  him 
self  and  Peter  getting  into  trouble  at  the  hands  of  a 
crack-brained  village  humorist. 

Streams  of  people,  converging  from  all  directions, 
guided  him  easily  to  the  theatre.  Pushing  his  way 
in,  he  found  the  stage  empty  and  the  proceedings  not 
yet  begun;  and  he  stood  for  a  minute  at  the  inner 
door,  glancing  over  the  house.  It  was  crowded. 
Oratory  is  a  real  inducement  in  societies  seldom 
blessed  with  that  attraction.  Even  lemonade  is  a 
magnet  if  you  get  it  seldom  and  never  to  surfeit. 
Already  men  were  sitting  in  the  long  low  windows 
which  ran  down  either  side  of  the  building;  and  a 
score  of  ushers,  singularly  alert-looking  men,  were 
hurriedly  distributing  camp-chairs  to  accommodate 
the  overflow.  Certainly,  Peter  could  have  desired  no 
better  setting  for  his  daring  adventure  for  reform. 

Thanks  to  the  reserved  seat  which  his  friend's 
reluctant  liberality  had  furnished  him,  Varney  was 
in  no  hurry  to  join  the  throng  inside.  Presently,  to 
get  clear  of  the  rush  at  the  doors,  he  strolled  into  the 
lobby  and  idly  stood  at  one  side,  watching  the  people 
streaming  by. 

Thus,  by  sheer  luck,  he  became  witness  to  the  cru 
cial  episode  of  the  evening.  An  oily  Teutonic  voice 
spoke  just  at  his  elbow : 

7 


98         CAPTIVATING   MARY    CARSTAIRS 

"  Id  's  eight  o'clock,  I  zee.  We  'd  better  go  back 
und  gif  Taylor  bis  speech,  I  guess." 

The  young  man  turned.  He  happened  to  be  stand 
ing  just  in  front  of  the  little  cubby  of  a  box-office. 
In  it  stood  two  men,  one  large  and  fat  and  blonde,  the 
other  short  and  stocky  and  dark.  This  latter,  looking 
up  from  a  typewritten  manuscript,  spoke  briefly : 

"  No  hurry.  Find  Smith  if  you  can  and  send  him 
here." 

The  fat  oily  person  departed  obediently.  Immedi 
ately  there  stepped  through  the  door  of  the  box- 
office  a  rough-looking  man  in  a  slouch  hat,  with  three 
days'  stubble  stippling  a  grimy  chin.  He  shut  the 
door  carefully  and  came  near.  Varney,  from  where 
he  stood,  could  see  and  hear  everything. 

"Mr.  Ryan?" 

The  stocky,  dark  man  nodded.  Aha!  thought 
Varney. 

"Then  step  outside  a  minute,  will  yer?  There's 
a  genaman  wants  to  speak  to  you  right  away  on  a 
matter  as  concerns  you  close." 

Ryan  coldly  looked  the  man  over:  "Then  tell  him 
to  come  in  here.  No!  I  ain't  got  no  time  to  fool 
with  him  now.  Tell  him  to  go  to  the  devil." 

The  stranger  never  moved  a  muscle.  "  There 's  a 
reason  w'y  he  can't  come  in  here  —  you  '11  see  when 
you  come  outside,  all  right."  Then  bringing  his  dark 
face  sharply  a  foot  nearer,  he  went  on  in  a  hasty  un 
dertone  :  "  Hey,  you !  Ever  hear  of  a  man  named 
Maginnis?  " 

Ryan  had :  Peter's  fame  had  traveled  far  in  Hun- 
ston  that  day. 


A   GALLING   REBUFF  99 

"  Well,  listen !  There  's  a  game  on  to  bust  this 
meetin'  to-night  and  put  the  hook  into  you  good  and 
hard.  Maginnis  has  spent  a  thousand  to  do  it.  D'  yer 
savvy?  Now  will  yer  step  lively?  " 

The  boss  considered  a  moment  and  then  stepped 
lively.  Varney,  falling  in  behind,  stepped  lively  too, 
his  curiosity  strongly  stirred.  But  outside,  before  the 
theatre,  there  was  no  sign  of  a  gentleman  awaiting 
an  audience :  only  the  people  pouring  on  into  the 
Academy. 

"  Around  the  corner,"  whispered  the  dark  man 
hoarsely.  "He  dassen't  wait  here.  Quick!" 

Around  the  corner  the  pair  hurried,  Varney  close 
in  their  wake.  In  the  silent  alley,  half -hidden  in  the 
shadows  of  the  building,  stood  a  large  carriage  with 
a  pair  of  strapping  bays  tugging  at  their  traces.  They 
halted  before  it,  and  the  stranger,  who  had  consid 
erately  taken  Ryan's  arm,  flung  open  the  door. 

"  Here  he  is,  Jim  —  Mr.  Ryan.  Now  you  c'n  tell 
him  —  " 

The  sentence  died  unended.  At  the  same  moment 
the  sound  of  a  violent  scuffle  smote  the  nocturnal  air. 
It  appeared  that  Jim,  presumably  laboring  under  an 
unfortunate  misapprehension,  had  not  received  his 
visitor  with  that  refined  hospitality  due  from  one  gen 
tleman  to  another.  Even  more  inexplicable,  it  looked 
in  the  deceitful  darkness,  remarkably  as  though  the 
boss's  guide,  suddenly  dropping  that  gentleman's  arm, 
had  laid  forcible  hold  upon  his  outraged  and  madly 
protesting  legs. 

It  was  all  over  in  a  minute.     There  was  a  faint  yell. 


ioo       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

quickly  and  violently  muffled.  Then  the  carriage  door 
banged,  leaving  nobody  on  the  sidewalk,  and  the 
horses,  responding  to  an  acutely  painful  lash  from  the 
strong  arm  on  the  box,  sprang  forward  at  the  gallop. 

Varney  stood  in  the  dark  alley,  looking  after  the 
vanishing  carriage  with  mingled  admiration  and 
amazement.  Swift  footsteps  sounded  near  him ;  and 
the  next  moment  a  strong  hand  seized  him  and  pulled 
him  back  into  the  shadow  of  the  wall. 

"Sh-h!     It's  me!     Anybody  see  it ?" 

"  Hello!    Not  a  soul  but  me." 

Peter  leaned  against  the  wall  and  drew  a  deep 
breath. 

"  He  can  never  prove  it  on  me  —  not  to  save  his 
soul !  —  an d  I  hold  his  meeting  in  the  hollow  of  my 
hand.  Do  you  see  that  lighted  window  at  the  back 
there?  That's  my  last  bridge.  Waiting  in  there 
are  the  chairman  of  the  meeting  and  the  mayor, 
who  's  the  orator  of  the  evening.  I  'm  going  in  and 
make  'em  take  me  on  as  one  of  the  platform  speakers. 
I  '11  pass  out  a  few  remarks  and  call  on  Hare  - 

"  But  how  will  you  make  them  — 
'  They   dare  n't   refuse   me   anything,"    said    Peter 
swiftly,  and  tapped  his  breast-pocket.     "  I  've  papers 
here  that  mean  stripes   for  them  both.     Mind  your 
eye,  Larry,  and  be  good !  " 

He  disappeared  through  the  little  gate  toward  the 
dressing-room,  where  the  officials  of  the  meeting 
waited  vainly  for  last  instructions  from  their  lord. 
Varney  looked  after  him  with  a  sigh.  In  Hunston 


A   GALLING  REBUFF  101 

only  twenty- four  hours  and  already  to  be  running  the 
town ! 

He  emerged  from  the  alley  feeling  rather  gloomy, 
and  halted  on  the  sidewalk  in  front  of  the  theatre,  idly 
watching  the  people  as  they  poured  in.  The  spec 
tacle  of  this  steady  stream  made  a  fitting  background 
for  his  meditations;  for  he  wras  thinking,  absently,  of 
the  extreme  boldness  of  Peter's  course.  Certainly, 
there  was  little  here  to  suggest  the  quiet  onlooker. 
But  all  at  once  something  happened  which  checked  the 
current  of  his  thought  as  effectually  as  a  slap  upon  the 
cheek. 

in  that  shifting  waste  of  strange  faces,  his  vagrant 
eye  suddenly  fell  upon  a  familiar  one  —  two,  three 
familiar  ones  —  and  his  flagging  interest  sprang  to 
life.  There  approached,  side  by  side,  J.  Pinkney 
Hare,  who,  though  few  knew  it,  might  prove  the  bril 
liant  hero  of  the  night's  proceedings;  the  child,  little 
Jenny  Something,  who  had  spent  yesterday  at  the 
Carstairs  house,  leading  strangers  to  think  that  she 
was  somebody  else;  and  Miss  Carstairs  herself,  a 
fair  flower  in  that  moving  tangle  of  weeds. 

Hare  saw  Varney  and  bowed  in  his  stiff  affected 
way.  But  Varney  's  eyes  had  already  gone  on  to  Miss 
Carstairs,  and  he  did  not  return  that  greeting.  See 
ing  the  little  candidate  lift  his  hat,  her  look  followed 
his,  and  so  her  eye  met  Varney's. 

When  this  happened  her  expression  did  not  change, 
except  that,  so  he  thought,  she  faintly  colored.  Var 
ney  awaited  her  bow;  he  half  bowed  himself:  a  stiff 
smile  was  ready  on  his  lips.  But  he  never  gave  it. 


102        CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

Her  eyes  rested  full  upon  him  for  a  second,  with  no 
sign  of  recognition,  and  then  moved  away;  and  the 
next  moment  she  swept  past  him  into  the  theatre. 

There  was  no  shadow  of  doubt  about  it.  She  who 
only  last  night  had  treated  him  with  such  marked 
kindness,  had  unmistakably  cut  him.  It  hardly  seemed 
possible.  Why,  they  had  parted  like  friends ! 

But  he  understood  instantly  what  had  happened. 
To  her,  he  was  Ferris  Stanhope;  he  himself  had 
given  her  the  right  to  think  that.  Since  they  had 
parted,  some  of  that  unpleasant  gossip  about  Stan 
hope  —  of  which  she  had  known  nothing  last  night 
-  had  made  its  way  to  her ;  and  she  had  believed  it 
as  to  him,  Laurence  Varney.  Yes,  she  had  believed 
it  as  to  him.  Peter  was  right,  after  all.  A  self- 
respecting  girl  owed  it  to  herself,  it  seemed,  not  to 
recognize  him.  Curiously,  so  strong  was  his  sense  of 
the  personal  meaning  of  the  insult  that  its  more 
practical  aspects  for  the  moment  altogether  escaped 
him. 

But  that  was  only  for  the  moment.  In  the  next 
breath,  it  rushed  over  him  that  with  that  cool  glance 
the  luncheon  engagement  upon  which  his  whole  mis 
sion  depended  stood  canceled ;  and  with  that  thought 
he  felt  his  will  hardening  into  iron.  What  she  thought 
of  him,  personally,  was  of  course  nothing;  but  no 
power  should  keep  him  from  carrying  through  his 
plans  precisely  as  he  had  arranged  them.  He  elbowed 
his  way  into  the  lobby  to  find  Uncle  Elbert's  daughter 
and  make  her  retract  that  look. 

But  it  gradually  became  evident  that  Uncle  Elbert's 


A   GALLING  REBUFF  103 

daughter  was  not  in  the  lobby :  the  most  systematic 
exploration  failed  to  reveal  any  trace  of  her.  In 
fact,  it  was  certain  that  she  had  passed  straight  on  to 
her  seat  within  the  hall ;  whence  a  loud  roar  presently 
gave  warning  to  stragglers  that  the  oratory  had 
begun. 

Two  hours  later  Varney  rose  from  his  seat,  at  once 
marveling  over  the  splendor  of  Peter's  coup  and  be 
wildered  by  the  blaze  of  publicity  which  it  had  turned 
upon  his  comrade  and  co-schemer.  The  \vell-laid 
plans  had  carried  through  to  brilliant  success,  and 
Ryan's  meeting  had  been  converted  into  a  triumph 
for  Ryan's  deadly  enemy,  J.  Pinkney  Hare. 

The  candidate  had  sat  unobtrusively  down  in  the 
audience  with  his  friend  Miss  Carstairs  and  the  child 
Jenny,  —  spectators  all :  that  was  the  way  they  had 
arranged  it.  Peter,  on  the  contrary,  sat  in  the  great 
white  light  of  a  front  seat  on  the  stage,  where  he  had 
masterfully  intruded  himself  in  the  galaxy  of  "  other 
prominent  citizens."  And  sure  enough,  when  the  set 
speeches  were  over,  it  was  the  honorable  chairman 
who  presented  "  a  Mr.  Maginnis  of  New  York  "  to 
the  meeting,  doubtless  having  been  satisfactorily  con 
vinced  beforehand  that  it  was  to  his  advantage  to  do 
so.  But,  doubtless  also  convinced  that  there  would  be 
an  accounting  to  his  master  for  this  night's  work,  he 
rose  to  his  duty  only  after  Mr.  Maginnis  had  glared 
at  him  through  a  noticeable  stage-wait,  and  then  made 
the  introduction  as  prejudicial  as  he  dared. 

Mr.   Maginnis  did  not  appear  disconcerted  in  the 


104       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

least.  He  began  speaking  with  a  pertinence  and  ease 
which  rather  surprised  his  friend  Varney  down  in  the 
audience,  and  with  words  which  instantly  let  the  dull 
est  know  that  something  unusual  was  taking  place. 
However,  he  had  not  proceeded  far  when,  the  house 
having  become  very  still,  he  was  suddenly  interrupted 
by  a  sharp  hiss  from  the  rear  of  the  hall,  and  a  rau 
cous  voice  which  shouted : 

"  Sit  down,  you !     Nobody  wants  yer !  " 

Laughter  followed  and  various  murmurs,  some  ap 
proving,  a  few  protesting.  Ryan's  good  and  faith 
ful  servants  were  evidently  settling  down  to  work. 

Peter's  eye  roved  over  the  audience,  seemed  to  catch 
something  and  lit  up  with  a  faint  signal. 

"  The  gentleman  who  made  that  remark,"  he  said 
in  tones  of  great  gentleness,  "  will  kindly  leave  the 
hall  at  once." 

A  ripple  of  merriment  ran  through  the  crowd, 
breaking  in  many  places  into  ostentatious  guffaws. 
To  those  who  knew  the  underside  of  those  meetings, 
the  mild  request  appeared  so  ineffectual  as  to  be  merely 
ridiculous.  The  honorable  chairman,  on  the  stage,  hid 
a  sinister  smile  behind  his  hand. 

Then  a  strange  thing  happened.  Four  "  ushers  " 
moved  silently  down  the  side-aisle,  halted  at  the  end 
of  the  sixth  row  from  the  rear,  laid  hands  upon  an 
angry  and  wriggling  little  man  who  screamed  to 
high  heaven  that  he  had  n't  done  nothing,  and 
dropped  him  out  of  the  open  window,  which  was  just 
five  feet  above  the  ground. 

It  \vas  rather  a  clean-cut  piece  of  work,  the  moral 


A   GALLING  REBUFF  105 

effect  of  which  was  in  no  wise  weakened  by  the  strong 
probability  that  they  had  ejected  the  wrong  man.  It 
proved  the  turning-point  in  the  evening's  proceed 
ings.  Ryanism  seemed  paralyzed  by  the  mysterious 
absence  of  its  chief,  and  a  few  further  essays  by  the 
faithful,  more  and  more  half-hearted  in  their  nature, 
made  it  plain  that  the  control  of  that  meeting  had 
passed  into  other  hands.  Peter,  apologizing  for  the 
little  interruption,  told  simply  but  vividly  how,  coming 
to  Hunston  a  stranger,  he  had  instantly  seen  that 
something  was  badly  wrong  with  the  town:  how  he 
had  looked  about  at  the  dirty  streets,  the  dead  busi 
ness,  the  empty  stores,  the  good  men  idling,  the  good 
wives  suffering  for  the  money  that  streamed  into  the 
big  red  saloon  — 

'That's  right!"    called  a  shrill,   scared  woman's 
voice.     "That's  right,  Mister!" 

"  No ! "  Peter  answered  steadily.  "  It 's  the 
wrongest  thing  that  ever  was  —  God  help  you  poor 
women ! " 

Then  a  burst  of  hand-clapping,  unforced  by  the 
faithful  hirelings  from  New  York,  ran  unexpectedly 
through  the  house. 

Peter  told  how  easy  it  had  been  to  find  out  what 
was  choking  the  life  out  of  Hunston.  His  open 
countenance,  democratic  manners,  and  pungent  speech 
produced  a  most  favorable  impression,  and  it  was 
undeniable  that,  for  the  moment  at  least,  he  had 
the  house  with  him  when  he  swung  into  his 
peroration. 

"  You  know  we  are  told,"  he  said,  "  that  it  is  the 


io6       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

truth  that  makes  us  free.  Well,  you  are  going  to  hear 
the  truth  to-night,  at  last.  There  is  a  man  listening 
to  me  at  this  moment  who  knows  everything  there  is 
to  be  known.  Like  me,  he  has  no  axe  to  grind,  no 
special  interest  to  promote,  no  ambition  but  the  manly 
wish  to  loose  this  town  from  the  bonds  with  which  a 
dishonest  boss  has  shackled  it.  He  has  sacrificed 
much  to  the  hope  that  he  might  help  you,  and  for 
months  he  has  been  fighting  against  big  odds,  just  to 
get  a  chance  to  tell  you  the  facts.  To-night  he  has 
got  his  chance,  and  you  may  be  very  sure  that  he  will 
make  the  most  of  it. 

"  Relieving  your  honorable  chairman  of  the  trouble 
of  rising  for  the  purpose,  I  take  pleasure  in  introduc 
ing  to  you  Mr.  J.  Pinkney  Hare,  who  is,  with  your 
consent,  the  next  mayor  of  Hunston." 

Back  in  the  center  of  the  house,  a  foot  scraped  upon 
the  floor,  and  there  was  J.  Pinkney  Hare  standing  out 
in  the  aisle,  his  little  black  bag  stuffed  with  documents 
swinging  in  his  hand.  And  then  there  arose,  to  the 
surprise  of  everybody  (barring  those  good  fellows 
who  had  been  well  paid  for  their  work  and  were  ear 
nestly  determined  to  earn  it)  a  deafening  roar  of  ap 
plause,  starting  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  taken  up  at 
certain  definite  points  all  through  it,  and  gradually 
spreading  almost  everywhere,  many  people  joining  in 
because  they  liked  Peter  greatly  and  others  without 
having  any  idea  why.  The  roar  subsided  a  little  as 
Hare  drew  near  to  the  stage,  mounted  it,  and  deposited 
his  little  bag  upon  the  table.  Then  it  broke  again, 
more  loudly,  as  he  came  forward  a  step,  looking  out 


A   GALLING   REBUFF  107 

upon  the  crowded  house  —  he  who  could  not  hire  a 
hall  for  himself  —  a  little  pale,  a  little  awed  by  the  big 
ness  of  his  chance,  but  with  neither  tremor  nor  uncer 
tainty  on  his  small,  cool  face.  .  .  . 

Hare  spoke  for  an  hour  and  a  half,  and  not  a  soul 
left  the  hall.  It  was  impossible  to  call  him  off  or  cry 
him  down :  the  plain  sentiment  of  the  house  was, 
"  Give  the  little  man  his  show."  Afterwards,  Chair 
man  Bates  had  made  a  desperate  effort  to  overcome 
the  damning'  effect  of  that  address,  calling  on  various 
Ryanites  of  aggressive  manners,  and  making  a  second 
speech  himself,  but  with  little  avail.  Even  the  free 
fight  which  broke  out  during  the  distribution  of  the 
ice-cream  of  the  Neapolitans  (the  announcement  of 
which  addition  to  the  regular  menu  evoked  the  loudest 
spontaneous  applause  of  the  evening)  resulted,  until 
the  police  checked  it,  decidedly  in  favor  of  the  stran 
gers  from  New  York. 

This  part  of  the  evening's  pleasures  Varney  did  not 
see.  He  rose  with  many  others  when  the  published 
tidings  of  refreshment  gave  notice  that  the  speech- 
making  was  over,  and  turned  his  face  toward  the 
door  against  a  stream  of  ushers  entering  with  allur 
ing  trays.  Already  all  sense  of  the  daring  brilliance 
of  Peter's  stroke  had  faded  and  dropped  from  his 
mind.  His  own  concerns  crowded  instantly  upon  his 
attention,  and  all  his  thought  was  of  rinding  Mary 
Carstairs  immediately  and  compelling  her  to  recog 
nize  him  for  the  man  he  was. 

She,  too,  had  risen  to  leave  the  hall.  While  he  lis 
tened  to  the  fierce  philippic  of  J.  Pinkney  Hare,  Var- 


io8       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

ney's  eye  had  carefully  marked  her  seat:  it  was 
empty  now.  Once,  as  he  pushed  his  way  slowly 
toward  the  door,  he  caught  a  brief  glimpse  of  her  over 
in  the  other  aisle,  some  distance  ahead  of  him ;  but  he 
hardly  saw  her  before  she  was  lost  to  him  again,  swal 
lowed  up  in  the  jostling1  throng.  The  theatre  was  in 
an  uproar:  all  was  noise  and  bustle  and  movement. 
And  the  wide  lobby,  when  at  length  he  reached  it,  was 
no  better;  it  looked  scarcely  more  promising  to  his 
quest  than  the  traditional  haystack  to  the  searcher  of 
needles. 

Here  were  set  the  ice-cream  freezers  and  the  other 
paraphernalia  of  delight,  and  about  them  was  a  strug 
gling  mob.  Varney  circled  the  throng  with  a  roving 
eye.  Of  the  lady  he  saw  no  sign  anywhere.  But 
presently,  on  the  outer  fringe  of  the  cohorts  which 
stormed  the  freezers,  he  came  upon  the  child  Jenny, 
and  knew  that  he  had  found  a  guide  according  to  his 
heart's  desire. 

He  touched  her  on  the  elbow.  "  Do  you  want  to 
get  some  ice-cream?" 

She  turned  her  homely  little  face  up  towards  him, 
and  said  shyly : 

"  Yes,  sir.  But  they  won't  let  me  get  near.  And 
they  say  the  chocolate  is  going  fast." 

"  They  '11  let  me  get  near,"  said  Varney  heartily. 
"  Chocolate  is  it,  then  ?  Lemonade,  of  course.  And 
a  thought  of  the  cake  with  icing,  shall  we  say  ?  Good ! 
But  you  're  not  here  alone,  are  you?  " 

"  No,  sir.  I  'm  here  with  Miss  Mary — over  there 
in  that  corner." 


A   GALLING   REBUFF  109 

"  Well,  you  just  run  over  there  with  her  and  wait. 
Trust  everything  here  to  me." 

He  emerged  from  the  ruck  a  few  moments  later, 
disheveled  but  triumphant.  Hat  under  his  arm  and 
both  hands  heavily  laden,  he  made  a  gingerly  progress 
to  the  place  of  his  tryst,  a  comparatively  unpopu 
lated  corner  near  the  door.  And  there  she  stood,  her 
comely  youth  brought  into  sharp  relief  by  her  sur 
roundings,  side  by  side  with  the  living  hunger  and 
thirst  of  Jenny,  whose  yearning  eyes  summoned  the 
young  man  like  a  beacon. 

Miss  Carstairs  happened  to  be  looking  in  another 
direction.  Varney,  standing  before  her,  calmly  took 
up  their  acquaintance  where  he  had  left  it  last  night 
at  her  mother's  gate. 

"  Good  evening,  Miss  Carstairs.  I  bear  refresh 
ment  for  your  little  friend.  What  a  magnificent 
evening  for  Hare  and  Reform,  isn't  it?" 

She  turned,  startled  at  the  sound  of  his  voice,  looked 
at  him,  and  looked  at  once  away. 

"  Oh  .  .  .  yes,  indeed.  I  —  am  waiting  for  Mr. 
Hare  now.  Jenny,  are  you  sure  you  have  n't  seen  him 
come  out?  " 

"  Yessum,"  said  Jenny,  her  eyes  all  for  the  tall 
stranger. 

Unable  to  resist  their  imploring  appeal,  he  turned 
at  once  and  delivered  his  burden. 

"  Ice-cream  —  lemonade  —  '  he  made  inventory  — 
"  cake  with  icing  —  tin  spoon  —  paper  napkin  in  my 
pocket.  Is  there  anything  else?" 

"  I  think,"  said  Jenny,  conscientiously,  "  there 's 
figs." 


no       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

'  You  do  not  wish  any  figs  to-night,  Jenny,"  de 
clared  Miss  Carstairs,  rather  more  severely  than  mere 
figs  seemed  to  warrant. 

"  No'm!   I  thought  maybe  he  might  want  some." 

"  I  doubt  if  I  '11  take  any  figs  to-night,  either/' 
laughed  Varney.  "  But  may  n't  I  get  something  for 
you,  Miss  Carstairs?  I  'm  happy  to  say  that  the  choc 
olate  is  holding  out  better  than  we  feared." 

'  Thank  you,"  she  said,  apparently  addressing  the 
child,  "  I  don't  believe  I  wish  anything." 

Jenny  here  produced  and  handed  around  a  small, 
rather  dangerous-looking  paper-bag,  which  proved, 
upon  investigation,  to  contain  marshmallows.  Miss 
Carstairs  declined.  Varney,  to  show  how  unimpeach 
able  he  considered  his  standing  with  the  party,  grate 
fully  accepted. 

"  I  'm  afraid,"  he  said,  looking  at  Miss  Carstairs, 
"  that  Mr.  Hare's  admirers  are  likely  to  detain  him 
some  time.  If  you  don't  care  to  wait  so  long,  per 
haps  you  would  again  give  me  the  pleasure  of  sup 
planting  him  and  taking  you  home  —  you  and  Miss  — 
Miss  Jenny?" 

"  No,  thank  you  —  I  am  sure  he  will  be  out  soon 
.  .  .  You  look  awfully  trampled  on  and  —  mashed, 
Jenny,"  she  continued,  twitching  the  child's  hat  on 
straight.  "  And  my  dear!  Don't  eat  so  fast." 

Despite  himself,  Varney  felt  his  blood  rising  a  little. 
"  Miss  Carstairs,"  he  said  slowly,  "  I  must  tell  you 
that  I  came  with  Miss  Jenny  on  purpose  to  see  you. 
There  is  something  that  I  wanted  to  say." 

She  raised  her  eyes  then,  and  though  their  look  was 


A    GALLING   REBUFF  in 

very  young  and  embarrassed,  he  felt  himself  lose 
something  of  his  composure  under  it. 

"  You  wanted  to  say  something  —  to  me  ?  " 

"  A  good  deal.     I  have  an  explanation  to  make  —  ' 

"  I  'm  afraid  that  I  have  not  time  to  —  listen  — 
Mr.  Hare  —  " 

"You  must  listen  —  to  be  fair,"  he  said  slowly. 
"  I  have  to  blame  myself  for  it,  but  you  are  doing  me 
an  injustice  at  this  moment.  I  am  not  —  that  man." 

She  made  no  answer.  Beside  them,  Miss  Jenny  ate 
ice-cream  succulently.  All  around  them  were  people 
jostling  this  way  and  that,  laughing,  shouting :  but 
they  might  have  been  alone  on  a  mountain-top  for  all 
either  was  aware  of  them. 

"Since  I  have  been  in  Hunston  —  just  a  day," 
Varney  said  easily,  "  I  seem  to  have  done  nothing  but 
explain  over  and  over  that  I  am  not  Mr.  Stanhope. 
I  got  awfully  tired  of  it,  Miss  Carstairs;  it  seemed  so 
horribly  useless.  Like  the  others,  you  insisted  that  I 
was  he.  You  candidly  did  n't  believe  me  — 

"No,"  she  said,  "that  is  true." 

"  I  shall  make  you  believe  me  now,"  said  Varney. 

A  great  hullabaloo  suddenly  arose  around  them. 
Four  or  five  men  broke  pellmell,  and  for  the  most  part 
backwards,  out  of  the  swing-doors,  evidently  ejected 
from  within.  A  lonely-looking  policeman,  on  guard 
at  the  entrance,  charged  them.  The  lobby  was  al 
ready  thronged ;  now  people  retreating  before  that 
violent  infusion  of  arms  and  legs  crowded  them  close. 

Varney,  standing  in  front  of  Miss  Carstairs, 
shielded  her  from  the  press,  her  capable  buffer.  Soon 


ii2        CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

he  noticed  that  that  part  of  the  wall  upon  which  she 
leaned  was  not  a  wall,  but  a  door.  He  reached  past 
her,  turned  the  knob,  revealed  a  brilliantly-lit  little 
room. 

"Ah!  .  .  .  A  haven,   Miss   Carstairs." 

She  stepped  backward,  into  the  tiny  box-office  where 
Ryan  had  stood  two  hours  before  and  cynically  waited 
for  his  sport  to  begin.  It  was  empty  now,  offering  a 
perfect  refuge.  Varney  followed  and  stood  with  his 
hand  on  the  knob  just  inside  the  door. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Miss  Carstairs,  breathing  a  little 
rapidly.  '  The  meetings  have  never  been  as  bad  as 
this  before.  But  —  I  must  not  lose  sight  of  Jenny." 

"  I  'm  here,  Miss  Mary,"  gurgled  an  ice-creamy 
voice  at  the  door. 

"  I  think  I  had  better  wait  outside  after  all,"  said 
Mary.  "  Mr.  Hare  will  hardly  know  where  to  look 
for  me." 

"  Miss  Jenny  will  be  his  clew :  he  could  n't  miss 
her,"  said  Varney.  "  Let  me  go  on,  while  I  have  time. 
Miss  Carstairs,  it  is  not  fair  to  either  of  us  to  let 
matters  stay  like  this.  In  the  cottage  last  night,  you 
forced  me  to  let  you  think  I  was  —  another  man  — 

"  That  is  absurd,"  she  said.  "  How  could  I  possi 
bly  force  you  to  say  what  was  not  —  the  fact  ?  " 

"  Did  I  really  say  anything  that  was  not  —  the 
fact?  I  tried  particularly  not  to.  But  I  did  let  you 
deceive  yourself  about  it :  that  is  quite  true  and  I  'in 
sorry.  I  did  it  because  —  well,  because  if  I  hadn't 
done  it,  you  were  not  going  to  let  me  walk  home  with 
vou." 


A    GALLING   REBUFF  113 

She  leaned  against  the  little  desk  at  which  the  Acad 
emy  man  sat  to  sell  tickets,  and  hesitated,  almost  im 
perceptibly.  "  Then  why,"  she  asked,  "  should  you 
wish  to  undeceive  me  now  ?  " 

"  You  know  why,"  he  answered.  "  If  I  don't, 
something  tells  me  that  you  are  not  going  to  speak  to 
me  any  more." 

Her  silence  conceded  the  truth  of  this.  It  began  to 
be  evident  how  difficult  he  had  made  matters  for 
himself. 

Yarney  laughed.  "  I  am  determined  to  make  you 
believe  me,  yet  just  how  am  I  to  go  about  it? 
It 's  rather  an  absurd  position,  when  you  come  to  think 
of  it  —  this  arguing  with  somebody  as  to  who  one  is. 
Suppose  I  were  that  fellow,  Miss  Carstairs.  How 
could  I  possibly  hope  to  come  back  to  my  old  home 
town  and  persuade  people  to  believe  that  I  am  some 
body  else?  " 

Her  eyes  had  wandered  out  through  the  little  grated 
window,  and  she  made  no  reply. 

"  You  see  how  preposterous  that  would  be.  A  mere 
resemblance  is  not  enough  to  condemn  a  man  upon, 
Miss  Carstairs." 

She  turned  her  head  with  a  sudden  gesture  of  an 
noyance.  "  What  difference  can  it  possibly  make 
whether  I  speak  to  you  or  not,  Mr.  St  —  " 

"Don't!"  he  interrupted  swiftly.  "  You  know  my 
name.  You  shall  not  call  me  by  that  one." 

Hare's  neat  pink  face  appeared  at  the  ticket-win 
dow,  for  all  the  world  like  a  belated  theatre-goer,  anx 
ious  for  several  in  the  orchestra. 


ii4       CAPTIVATING   MARY    CARSTAIRS 

"  Ah,  Mary !  There  you  are !  Whenever  you  are 
ready  —  " 

"  I  have  been  waiting  for  you  a  long  time,"  said 
Miss  Carstairs.  "  It  was  so  splendid,  Mr.  Hare !  Is 
Jenny  there?  We'll  go  at  once." 

She  turned  to  Varney,  cool  as  a  dewy  rose,  and  came 
forward  a  short  step.  "  I  —  I  must  say  this  before  I 
go :  has  no  one  told  you  that  you  are  in  danger  here?  " 

Under  her  tone  and  her  look,  his  plan  of  being  the 
easy  master  of  the  situation  grew  increasingly  diffi 
cult.  "  Everybody  has  told  me,"  he  said  rather 
shortly.  "  It  *s  gotten  to  be  a  bore." 

"  Then  —  won't  you  —  won't  you  please  go  away 
before  —  anything  happens  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  on  Thursday  afternoon,"  he  an 
swered,  stung  by  her  beauty,  which  was  so  remote,  and 
by  the  sudden  compassion  in  her  voice.  "  My  engage 
ments  will  keep  me  here  till  that  day,  you  remember? 
I  promise  you,  since  you  are  so  good  as  to  interest 
yourself  in  the  matter,  that  I  shall  leave  Hunston 
directly  after  that  —  " 

"Your  engagements  on  Thursday?"  she  repeated, 
looking  away.  "  Are  —  you  speaking  of  - 

'  The  luncheon  on  my  yacht.  We  are  inviting  Mr. 
Hare  and  his  sister  to  meet  you." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  began  Miss  Carstairs,  not  looking  at 
him,  "  but  —  I  —  I  find  that  I  shall  n  —  " 

"  Er  —  Mary  ?  "  said  the  candidate's  voice  through 
the  window. 

She  turned  toward  the  door  at  once,  as  though  wel 
coming  a  summons  which  so  opportunely  relieved  her 


A    GALLING   REBUFF  115 

from  embarrassing  explanations :  but  Varney,  who 
happened  to  have  duties  to  her  father  to  discharge, 
stood  before  her,  not  moving. 

"  Just  now  in  the  theatre,"  he  said  pleasantly,  "  you 
cut  me.  That  was  for  him.  I  understood.  But  is 
there  any  valid  reason  why  you  should  not  stay  on 
speaking  terms  with  —  Laurence  Varney?" 

To  his  surprise,  a  vivid  red  swept  up  her  face  from 
throat  to  hair  and  her  eyes  fluttered  and  fell. 

"  Please,"  she  said,  "  don't  ask  me  to  discuss  this 
any  more." 

Varney  stood  aside,  bowing,  to  let  her  pass  out. 

"  I  shall  bring  you  proofs  of  my  identity  to 
morrow,  since  that  seems  necessary,"  he  said  with  a 
laugh.  "  You  won't  refuse  to  see  me,  if  you  care  any 
thing  about  being  fair.  But  shall  I  tell  you  something. 
Miss  Carstairs?  In  your  heart  you  believe  me  noiv!  " 

At  the  outer  door,  Varney  all  but  collided  with  a 
man  listlessly  entering,  and,  glancing  up,  saw  that  it 
was  the  pale  young  editor,  Coligny  Smith. 

"  I  hope  you  enjoyed  the  meeting,"  flung  out  Var 
ney  in  passing. 

"  Why,  greetings  —  greetings !  "  said  Mr.  Smith, 
a  mocking  smile  on  his  thin  lips.  "  I  've  just  been  out 
to  buy  your  picture,  Beany." 

With  which  singular  rejoinder,  he  slipped  by  into 
the  lobby. 

J.  Pinkney  Hare  lingered  some  time  in  the  theatre 
after  Miss  Carstairs  joined  him,  enveloped  in  a  heart 
ening  whirl  of  new  popularity.  To  the  candidate  it 


n6       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

seemed  that  his  star  had  changed  with  stunning  swift 
ness.  His  advance  to  the  door  had  been  a  Roman 
progress;  and  when  he  finally  reached  the  lobby  he 
was  still  the  focus  of  a  coterie  of  enthusiasts  who 
would  not  be  shaken  off.  Here  a  new  halt  was  made ' 
new  people  surrounded  him;  more  hand-shakings  and 
back-slappings  took  place;  and  everything  seemed 
merry  as  a  marriage-bell. 

But  Peter,  coming  out  of  the  hall  a  moment  after 
Varney  had  left,  saw  hovering  about  this  intimate 
circle  an  elderly  man  of  a  faded  exterior  and  shabby 
clothes,  who  wore  a  black  felt  hat  pulled  down  over 
wary-looking  eyes.  Even  at  that  moment  of  splen 
did  triumph,  Peter  was  annoyed  to  recognize  in  him 
the  man  Higginson,  of  whose  too  friendly  interest 
in  the  candidate's  doings  he  had  complained  to  Varney 
a  few  hours  earlier.  Whether  he  was,  in  truth,  the 
man  who  had  followed  them  on  the  street  the  night 
before,  he  was  not  ready  to  make  affidavit.  But  un 
doubtedly  there  was  something  furtive  in  the  man's 
appearance  and  manner;  and  Peter,  watching  him 
from  the  door.was  highly  irritated  to  see  Hare  present 
the  fellow  to  Miss  Carstairs,  who  smiled  on  him  as 
upon  one  of  her  friend's  good  friends. 

"The  sneak!"  thought  Peter.  "I'll  just  drop 
him  a  quiet  hint  to  butt  out  before  he  gets  hurt." 

But  his  "  head-usher  "  due  to  vanish  back  to  New 
York  by  the  ten- forty-five  claimed  him  just  then  for 
a  business  talk,  and  when  Peter  had  time  to  think  of 
Mr.  Higginson  again,  he  found  that  the  man  had 
disappeared. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  EDITOR  OF  THE  GAZETTE  PLAYS  A  CARD  FROM 
HIS  SLEEVE 

Varney  slept  badly.  The  night  was  long,  like  art  and 
the  lanes  that  have  no  turning;  and  interludes  punc 
tuated  it,  now  and  again,  when  he  lay  wide-eyed  in 
his  bunk,  staring  into  the  darkness.  At  these  times 
without  exception,  he  thought  how,  early  in  the  morn 
ing,  he  would  climb  the  hill  to  the  white  house,  blandly 
proffering  letters  to  show  that  he  was  no  cad,  no  cur, 
but  Laurence  Varney,  whom  ladies  need  not  flee  from 
as  from  the  plague;  suavely  putting  Uncle  Elbert's 
daughter  so  utterly  in  the  wrong  that  he  himself  would 
grow  merciful  towards  her  abashment,  and  sorry. 

He  fell  asleep,  woke  again,  rehearsed  once  more 
what  he  would  say  to  her.  At  last  he  saw  the  dawn 
break  along  the  horizon  and  the  gray  of  a  new  day 
meet  and  mingle  with  the  receding  darkness.  It  was 
Wednesday.  To-morrow  would  be  Thursday,  and  he 
could  go  away,  his  business  done.  The  prospect  was 
rich  recompense  for  everything.  It  came  to  him,  sud 
denly  and  for  the  first  time,  that  he  hated  his  mission 
in  Hunston  with  a  disheartening  and  sickening  hatred. 
And  formulating  this  thought,  polishing  it  to  aphorism 
and  sharpening  it  to  epigram,  he  slumbered  and  slept 
for  the  last  time  that  night. 


n8       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

But  on  the  heels  of  the  morning  came  Peter,  burst 
ing  in  half-dressed,  a  newspaper  flaunting  in  his 
hand,  an  unfastened  suspender  flapping  behind  him 
like  a  pennant  on  a  clubhouse. 

"  Oh,  you  're  awake,  are  you  ?  "  said  he,  looking 
very  keen  and  wide-awake  himself.  "Good!  You'd 
hardly  want  to  be  dead  to  the  world  while  this  kind 
of  thing  is  going  on." 

Varney,  on  an  elbow,  sleepily  surprised  at  this 
vehemence,  said:  "What's  up?" 

'The  jig!"  cried  Peter  succinctly.  "At  least  it 
looks  that  way.  It 's  that  rascal  Smith." 

He  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  Varney 's  bunk,  the 
folded  newspaper  in  his  hand,  and  continued :  "  I  ran 
out  before  I  was  dressed  to  look  at  this  contemptible 
Gazette,  because  I  wanted  to  see  how  they  handled 
the  meeting  last  night.  But  the  minute  I  picked  it  up, 
I  saw  this,  and  —  well,  by  George!  Look  at  it!" 

He  whipped  open  the  Gazette  with  a  movement 
which  all  but  shredded  it  and  thrust  it  into  Varney's 
hand.  Varney  sat  up  in  bed  and  smoothed  it  out 
upon  the  coverlet. 

Coligny  Smith  was  clever  and  his  eye  ranged  wide. 
He  saw  all  the  chances  that  there  wTere,  and  what  he 
saw  he  made  the  most  of.  For  his  front-page  "  pic 
ture  feature  "  that  morning,  he  had  selected  a  two- 
column  half-tone  of  a  good-looking,  though  not 
altogether  pleasant-faced  young  man ;  and  beneath  it 
had  indited  in  bold  capitals  which  the  most  casual  eye 
could  not  miss :  "  Mr.  Ferris  Stanhope,  Author  and 
Former  Hunstonian,  Who  Has  Just  Arrived  in 
Town.'*1 


THE   EDITOR   PLAYS  119 

"  I  see,"  said  Varney,  slowly.     "  Meaning  me." 
Beside  the  portrait  ran  a  "  story,"  which  said  in 
part : 

"  It  leaked  out  yesterday  that  the  '  mysterious  stran 
ger  '  who  suddenly  appeared  off  Hunston  in  an  elegant 
private  yacht  on  Monday  night,  is  none  other  than  Ferris 
Stanhope,  well-known  author  of  novels  of  the  pink-tea 
type.  .  .  . 

"  Mr.  Stanhope  is  a  native  of  Hunston,  and  is  well 
remembered  here.  As  the  result  of  certain  escapades 
which  need  not  be  detailed  in  a  home  paper  like  the 
Gazette,  he  left  town,  somewhat  hurriedly,  one  night 
twelve  years  ago.  Until  Monday  he  has  never  been  back 
since.  The  news  of  his  arrival  has  not  been  received 
with  general  expressions  of  pleasure.  Predictions  were 
freely  made  about  the  streets  yesterday  that  if  certain 
old  and  respected  citizens  of  Hunston  should  chance  to 
meet  the  author,  trouble  is  sure  to  arise. 

"  Why  Mr.  Stanhope  should  have  elected  to  come  back 
to  Hunston  has  not  yet  been  ascertained.  Some  say  that 
it  is  the  result  of  a  bet,  friends  having  wagered  that  he 
would  not  venture  to  return  for  a  month's  stay  here. 
These  declare  that  he  is  using  the  yacht  as  base  of  opera 
tions  to  reconnoiter  and  determine  whether  it  is  safe  to 
land.  Color  is  lent  to  this  theory  by  the  pains  which  the 
distinguished  author  is  taking  to  conceal  his  identity. 
The  name  of  the  yacht  has  been  carefully  erased,  and  he 
is  using,  it  is  said,  an  assumed  name. 

"  The  secret  of  Mr.  Stanhope's  identity  came  out  too 
late  last  night  for  the  Gazette  to  obtain  an  interview. 
With  him  on  the  yacht  is  a  '  Mr.  Maginnis,'  representing 
himself  as  a  wealthy  New  Yorker  and  a  '  student  of 
government.'  Both  gentlemen,  it  is  said,  are  claimed  as 
allies  by  Hunston's  new  '  Reform  party.' '; 


120       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

Peter  broke  out  the  moment  Varney  laid  down  the 
paper,  but  Varney,  staring  absently  out  of  the  port 
hole,  did  not  listen.  This,  then,  was  the  meaning  of 
the  pale  young  editor's  enigmatical  remark  last  night. 
Here  was  no  idle  malice.  Diabolically  resourceful  and 
without  shame,  young  Mr.  Smith  had  circulated  this 
lie  to  discredit  reform  and  drive  off  its  new  champion. 
And  this  was  the  way  that  he,  Varney,  had  kept  the 
coming  of  the  Cypriani  quiet  in  Hunston ! 

"  And  think  of  the  cursed  bull  luck  of  it !  "  cried 
Peter.  "  The  most  the  rascal  hoped  to  do  \vas  to 
ruin  my  plans  for  helping  Hare  by  these  dirty  hints 
about  both  of  us  —  at  the  best  to  scare  us  away  from 
Hunston.  He  never  dreamed  that  he  was  knocking 
the  bottom  out  of  any  private  plans  of  yours!  " 

Varney  stretched  and  yawned.     "  Well,  he  is  n't." 

"  Doubtless  I  am  a  stupid  ass  and  all  that,"  said 
Peter,  staring,  "  but  with  the  Gazette  publishing  it 
about  the  countryside  that  you  are  a  yellow  dog  of 
the  worst  nature,  I  don't  grasp  how  you  expect  Miss 
Carstairs  to  come  on  this  yacht  and  lunch  with  you." 

A  knock  sounded  on  the  stateroom  door,  and  Mc- 
Tosh  entered,  announcing  two  telegrams  for  Mr. 
Varney. 

Varney,  wondering  a  little  who  had  known  his 
whereabouts,  took  the  yellow  envelopes,  nodded  to 
the  steward  not  to  wait,  broke  them  open,  read  the 
typewritten  words  within,  read  them  again. 

Then  he  looked  up  and  found  Peter  gazing  at  him 
more  or  less  expectantly. 

Varney  laughed.     "  Do  you  remember  that  night  at 


THE   EDITOR   PLAYS  121 

the  club  my  saying  to  you,  as  a  great  inducement: 
'  Suppose  the  New  York  papers  get  on  to  this '  ?  " 

Peter  nodded. 

Varney  handed  him  the  yellow  slips;  then  he  arose 
and  pushed  the  service  button. 

"  McTosh,"  he  said,  "  send  to  town  at  once  and  get 
me  copies  of  the  Sun,  the  Times,  the  Daily  and  the 
Herald  —  all  the  New  York  papers.  No,  go  yourself, 
and  don't  stay  longer  than  is  absolutely  necessary." 

Peter,  meantime,  with  a  heart  beating  as  it  had  not 
beat  the  night  before  when  he  had  overthrown  Ryan 
and  stolen  his  meeting,  was  reading  the  following: 

Daily  story  has  got  us  all  guessing.  If  it 's  really 
you,  what  the  devil  are  you  up  to,  anyway? 

R.  E.  TOWNES. 
The  other  was  in  a  similar  vein: 

Alarming  story  in  Daily  to-day.  Absolute  secrecy  a 
prerequisite  as  explained.  Reporters  tried  to  reach  me 
to-night.  Trust  you  fully,  but  implore  you  to  proceed 
with  utmost  caution. 

ELBERT  CARSTAIRS. 

"  The  plot  thickens,"  said  Peter  when  Varney 
turned  back,  "  till  I,  for  one,  can't  see  the  drift.  How 
ever  —  you  've  sent  for  the  Daily?  " 

Varney  nodded.  "  I  told  him  to  get  three  or  four 
others,  too,  for  a  blind." 

"  Politics,"  said  Peter,  in  his  calmest  fighting  man 
ner,  "  is  all  off.  I  'm  not  the  least  interested  in  it. 
We  '11  give  the  morning  to  studying  yellow  journal 
ism.  But  about  Miss  Carstairs.  How  can  you 
possibly  — 


122       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  By  heaven,"  said  Varney,  with  a  sudden  burst  of 
anger,  "  I  '11  make  her  know  who  I  am,  if  I  have  to 
drag  in  her  own  mother  to  introduce  me." 

He  went  off  to  his  bath,  dressed  hurriedly,  dawdled 
a  moment  at  the  breakfast-table,  where  he  found  Peter 
discussing  a  cereal  not  without  a  certain  solemn  pleas 
ure,  and  went  above  grappling  with  the  thought  that 
all  this  would  mean  a  postponement  of  his  rail  at  the 
Carstairs  house,  and  maybe  something  more  serious 
still.  The  morning  was  sunny  and  crisp.  He  walked 
to  the  bow,  briskly,  by  way  of  a  constitutional,  turned 
and  started  down  again.  As  he  did  this,  his  eye  fell 
upon  a  strange  figure  which  had  at  first  escaped  him. 
Toward  the  stern  of  the  Cypriani,  near  the  wheel,  a 
little  runt  of  a  boy  hung  over  the  rail,  and  made  the 
air  noxious  with  the  relics  of  a  low-born  cigar.  He 
was  an  aged,  cynical  boy,  with  a  phlegmatic  mien  and 
a  face  of  the  complexion  and  general  appearance  of  a 
hickory-nut. 

A  little  surprised  by  the  sudden  apparition,  Varney 
came  down  the  deck  and  dropped  into  a  chair  near  him. 

"  Well,  my  lad !  I  'm  happy  to  see  you  and  your 
cigar  again.  But  to  what  do  we  owe  the  pleasure  of 
this  call  from  you  two  old  friends?  " 

The  boy  turned  his  back  to  the  rail  and  faced  him 
impassively.  In  the  brilliant  sunshine,  he  looked  sin 
gularly  worn  and  wise. 

"  I  brung  dem  wires,"  he  said  courageously  plying 
the  cigar.  "Any  answer?" 

"  I  '11  see,  after  a  while,"  said  Varney,  hastily  light 
ing  a  pipe  as  counter-irritant.  "  So  you  're  the  tele 
graph  boy,  are  you  ?  " 


THE   EDITOR   PLAYS  123 

"  Nawser.  Odjobbin'  I  do.  Anythink  as  comes 
handy.  They  don't  deliver  no  wires  down  here.  I 
handles  'em  sometimes  for  wut  dere  is  in  it." 

"  Oh !  Well,  I  won't  fail  to  see  that  there  is  some 
thing  in  it  for  you  this  time.  And  do  you  make  much 
money  odd-jobbing?" 

"  I  git  along  awright.  Summertimes  I  do.  Win- 
tertimes  there  ain't  no  odjobbin'  much." 

"  How  old  are  you,  my  boy?  " 

"  Twelve  year  old." 

'Twelve!     I  thought  you  were  sixteen,  at  least." 

A  faint  look  of  gratification  crossed  the  boy's  face, 
but  he  only  said  stoically :  "  Twelve  year  's  my  age." 

"  What  do  you  do  in  the  wintertime  when  mere 
isn't  much  odd-jobbing?  How  do  you  get  along 
then?" 

"  I  git  along  awright.  Sometimes  I  git  help.  Off 
a  lady  here,  a  frien'  o'  mine." 

"  What  lady?     What 's  her  name?  " 

"  Name  o'  Miss  Mary.  Miss  Carstair,  some  calls 
her.  I  git  money  and  clo's  off  her.  I  'd  'a'  had  some 
bum  winters,  had  n't  ben  for  her." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then  Varney  said :  "  What 's 
your  name,  my  boy  ?  " 

Again  the  boy  hesitated.  "  Tommy,"  he  said 
presently. 

"Tommy  what?" 

'  Tommy  —  Orrick." 

Varney  started.  Of  all  the  sordid  Hunston  of  the 
natives,  that  was  the  one  name  which  meant  anything 
to  him.  It  was  rather  a  curious  coincidence. 


i24       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

'  Then  I  suppose  old  Sam  Orrick,"  he  said  kindly, 
"  is  your  father's  father." 

"  Nawser,"  he  answered  slowly.  And  he  added 
presently,  "  He  wuz  me  mudder's  father." 

After  that,  the  silence  lengthened.  Varney  looked 
off  down  the  river.  Tommy  Orrick,  whose  father  was 
named  something  else,  clapped  his  hand  suddenly  to 
his  lip,  because  his  cigar  just  then  scorched  it  un 
bearably. 

"What  is  your  father's  name,  Tommy?"  asked 
Varney,  in  a  low  voice. 

His  back  toward  Varney,  his  fragment  of  a  cigar 
poised,  reluctantly  ready  to  drop,  the  boy  shook  his 
head.  "  I  don't  rightly  know,"  he  said  in  his  husky 
little  voice. 

But  Varney  knew  that  name:  and  he  said  it  now 
slowly  over  to  himself  in  a  dull  and  futile  anger. 

From  the  shore  a  boat  put  out  hurriedly  and  the 
faithful  steward  came  flying  over  the  water  with  meri 
torious  speed.  With  him  he  was  bringing  the  papers 
that  might  settle  the  Cypriani's  mission,  but  Varney, 
for  the  moment,  hardly  gave  him  a  thought.  His  own 
affairs  were  blotted  from  his  mind  just  then  by  the 
tragedy  of  the  little  waif  before  him,  luckless  victim 
of  another's  sin,  small  flotsam  which  barely  weathered 
the  winters  when  odd- jobbing  was  scarce,  and  only 
one  lady  cared. 

"Where  do  you  live,  Tommy?" 

"  Kerrigan's  loft  mostly  —  w'en  Kerrigan  ain't 
dere." 

"  This  morning,"  said  Varney  rapidly,  "  I  'm  just 


THE   EDITOR   PLAYS  125 

as  busy  as  a  bee.  But  this  afternoon,  or  to-morrow 
morning  anyway,  I  want  to  come  down  to  Kerrigan's 
and  call  on  you." 

"  Wut  about?  "  the  boy  demanded  with  an  instant 
suspiciousness  which  was  rather  pathetic. 

"  About  you,  Tommy.  I  have  got  a  little  plan  in 
my  head,  and  there  is  n't  any  time  to  talk  about  it  now. 
What  would  you  say  to  having  a  home  with  some  nice 
people  I  know  in  another  city  —  in  New  York  ?  " 

A  sudden  dumbness  seized  Tommy.  His  head 
slowly  lowered  and  he  did  not  answer.  Around  the 
deck-house  from  the  port-side  hurried  McTosh,  his  arm 
embracing  a  bundle  of  papers,  his  brow  beady  with 
the  honest  toil  of  speed  wrung  out  of  country  paths. 

"  Ah,  steward !  You  made  good  time.  Ask  Mr. 
Maginnis  if  he  won't  come  on  deck  when  he  is  at 
leisure.  Thomas,  you  're  for  the  shore,  are  n't  you  ? 
Forward,  there !  " 

He  got  up  and  stood  by  the  side  of  grave  little 
Tommy  Orrick,  who  was  staring  silently  down  at  the 
white  deck. 

"  Down  in  New  York,  Tommy,  I  know  a  nice 
woman  who  has  a  home  and  no  boys  at  all  to  put  in  it. 
A  long  time  ago  she  used  to  be  the  nurse  of  a  boy  I 
knew,  but  he  grew  up ;  and  now  her  husband  's  dead 
and  she  's  all  alone.  And  here  in  Hunston  is  a  boy 
with  no  home  to  put  himself  in.  That 's  you,  Tommy, 
and  I  —  but  here  's  your  boat.  I  '11  come  to  see  you 
to-morrow  at  Kerrigan's  —  sure,  and  we  '11  talk  it  all 
over.  Good-bye.  And  remember  that  you  and  I  are 
just  the  best  friends  going." 


126       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

He  held  out  his  hand,  to  shake,  but  Tommy,  in  an 
excess  of  stage-fright  at  the  unwonted  ceremonial, 
nimbly  turned  his  back ;  and  the  next  instant  he  slipped 
over  .the  rail  like  an  acrobat  and  dropped  into  the  wait 
ing  dinghy.  Safely  there,  he  glanced  tentatively  up 
ward;  but  seeing  that  the  tall  man  above  was  still 
standing  at  the  rail  and  was  smiling  down  upon  him, 
looked  tactfully  away  again.  And  Varney  heard  him 
say  to  the  oarsman  in  a  snappy,  impatient  voice: 
"  Pull  for  all  you  know,  dere!  I  got  bizness  dat  won't 
keep." 

Varney  sat  down  with  the  bundle  of  papers.  Within 
the  minute,  Peter  appeared,  replete  but  characteristi 
cally  alert. 

"Read  it  yet?" 

"  No,  but  I  've  found  it.     It  was  n't  hard." 

He  handed  Peter  the  paper,  his  thumb  crooked  to 
indicate  the  place,  which  was  superfluous ;  for  near 
the  middle  of  the  front  page,  top  of  column  and  in  the 
strong  type  of  captions,  the  words  leaped  out  to 
Peter's  eye  as  though  hand-illumined  in  many  colors : 

FERRIS    STANHOPE   OR 

LAURENCE   VARNEY 


Mystery  Surrounding  Young  Man  On  Yacht  Near 
Hunston. 


He  Says  He  's  Varney  —  Natives  say  He  's  Stanhope 
and  Trouble  Feared  —  Yacht  is  Elbert  Carstairs's,  with 
Her  Name  Painted  Out  —  Mr.  Varney's  Movements 
Unknown  to  Friends  Here. 


THE   EDITOR   PLAYS  127 

Peter  read  the  story  aloud  in  a  guarded  undertone. 
In  general,  it  closely  followed  the  story  in  the  Ga- 
zvtte;  so  closely  indeed  as  to  show  at  a  glance  that 
both  productions  came  from  one  brain  and  pen.  But 
toward  the  end,  the  new  story  took  a  different  turn. 
It  said : 

"  The  above  is  a  sample  of  the  gossip  which  is  agitat 
ing  this  usually  quiet  little  town.  Late  to-night  there 
are  two  distinct  factions.  One  holds  that  the  young 
'  stranger '  is  Ferris  Stanhope,  reconnoitring  under  an 
alias.  The  other  contends  that  he  is  really  Laurence 
Varney,  or  somebody  else,  up  here  on  some  secret  mis 
sion.  Unless  the  stranger  leaves  town  before,  the  facts 
will  doubtless  be  brought  out  to-morrow.  The  gossips 
promise  that  a  sensation  of  no  mean  order  is  forth 
coming." 

Below  this,  some  one  in  the  Daily  office  had 
added : 

"  A  certain  air  of  mystery  surrounds  Laurence  Var- 
ney's  recent  movements.  At  his  bachelor  apartments,  in 
the  Arvonia,  it  was  learned  last  night  that  Mr.  Varney 
was  out  of  the  city,  but  the  man-servant  there  had  nq 
idea  of  his  master's  whereabouts.  From  other  sources, 
however,  it  was  learned  that  Mr.  Varney  left  New  York 
several  days  ago  on  the  Cypriani,  a  handsome  steam 
yacht  belonging  to  Elbert  Carstairs  of  No.  oo  Fifth 
Avenue.  An  attempt  was  made  to  reach  Mr.  Carstairs 
at  his  home,  but  the  hour  was  late,  and  he  could  not  be 
interviewed.  A  telegram  sent  to  Ferris  Stanhope's  last 
known  address,  Camp  Skagway  in  the  Adirondacks,  was 
unanswered  up  to  the  hour  of  going  to  press." 


i28       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

Peter  let  the  paper  drop  upon  his  knees,  and  whistled 
rather  shamefacedly.  Here  was  a  pretty  kettle  of  fish 
indeed,  and  it  was  all  of  his  brewing.  If  he  had  kept 
his  fingers  out  of  the  affairs  of  Hunston,  as  both  his 
enemy  and  his  friend  had  warned  him  to  do,  the  un 
scrupulous  editor  would  have  had  no  interest  in  at 
tacking  him,  over  his  captain's  shoulders,  and  this 
damaging  story  would  never  have  been  concocted  and 
spread  broadcast  as  a  feast  for  gossips.  He  had  been 
brought  to  Hunston  to  help  Varney  —  and  here  was 
the  front-page  result. 

If  a  similar  thought  flashed  across  Varney 's  mind 
in  this  disturbing  moment,  he  instantly  forgot  it  for 
others  more  practical.  He  sat  curled  up  in  a  folding 
deck-chair,  swiftly  weighing  what  this  new  issue 
might  mean,  and  a  moment  of  rather  heavy  silence 
ensued. 

The  cat  was  all  but  out  of  the  bag:  this  fatal  hint  at 
"  some  secret  mission  "  made  that  plain.  A  little  care 
lessness,  some  more  shrewd  probing  into  his  affairs, 
and  the  jig  \vould  be  up,  indeed.  This  was  the  one 
way  that  their  enemies  in  Hunston  could  interfere 
with  him  —  insisting  on  knowing  why  he  had  come 
there;  and  Coligny  Smith  had  had  the  bull  luck, 
as  Peter  put  it,  to  stumble  on  it. 

Thus  it  fell  out  that  he,  Varney,  who  had  needed  to 
seek  the  dark  and  unobtrusive  ways,  found  himself 
thrust  suddenly  into  the  full  glare  of  the  calcium.  He 
who  was  guarding  an  errand  which  nobody  should 
know  about  was  now  to  be  asked  by  everybody  who 
read  newspapers  just  what  that  errand  was. 


THE   EDITOR   PLAYS  129 

It  was  so  absurd  that  all  at  once  he  laughed  aloud. 
However,  it  was  becoming  quite  serious,  and  he  saw 
that,  too. 

"Damn  him!  "  broke  out  Peter,  compactly,  and  he 
added  presently :  "  Think  of  his  throwing  a  bomb  in 
the  air  like  that,  and  smoking  out  poor  old  Carstairs !  " 

Varney  looked  up,  knocked  out  his  pipe  against  his 
heel,  and  restored  it  thoughtfully  to  his  pocket. 
"  Yes.  Did  you  notice  the  difference  between  those 
two  stories  ?  He  does  n't  want  Hunston  even  to  sus 
pect  that  I  may  be  myself.  His  game  here  is  to  know 
I  'm  Stanhope,  whom  the  whole  town  is  sore  on.  In 
New  York,  he  tries  both  stories,  not  knowing  which 
will  hurt  the  most.  However,  theories  will  keep. 
The  facts  are  plain.  They  've  started  out  to  run  us 
down  —  that 's  all.  The  point  is  now  to  decide  what 
we  are  going  to  do  about  it." 

He  stood  up,  tall  and  cool,  his  jaw  shut  tightly, 
his  brow  puckered  into  a  long  frown,  thinking 
rapidly. 

"  As  I  see  it,"  he  said  slowly,  "  it  works  about  like 
this.  Probably  the  Gazette  is  the  local  news  bureau 
for  this  town.  At  any  rate,  it  is  evident  that  some 
body  on  it  is  the  correspondent  of  the  Daily.  The 
Gazette,  we  know,  wants  to  run  you  out  of  town  in 
order  to  have  a  free  hand  in  slaughtering  Hare.  Last 
night  they  supposed  that  my  looking  like  Stanhope  was 
the  best  card  they  had.  This  morning  they  will  guess 
that  there  may  be  a  still  better  one  lying  around  some 
where.  The  Daily  tells  them  that  I  'm  Varney,  and, 
what  is  much  more  interesting,  that  I  'm  using  Elbert 

9 


i3o       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

Carstairs's  yacht.  Mrs.  Elbert  Carstairs  lives  in  Hun- 
ston.  Putting  two  and  two  together,  and  adding  the 
painted-out  name  and  a  dash  of  seeming  furtiveness 
on  my  part,  you  have  all  the  materials  for  a  nice,  yel 
low  mystery.  I  have  n't  the  slightest  doubt  that  when 
that  telegraph  editor  in  New  York  gets  down  to  his 
office  about  one  o'clock  to-day,  the  very  first  thing  he 
does,  after  hanging  his  coat  on  the  nail,  is  to  wire 
his  correspondent  to  begin  operating  on  me." 

Peter  nailed  the  alternative.  "  If  he  does  n't,  the 
Gazette  will  attend  to  the  job,  anyway." 

"  Yes,  the  press  is  on  our  trail,  in  any  case.  The 
fact  that  this  is  the  Carstairs  yacht  will  mean  more  to 
the  Gazette  than  it  could  to  the  Daily.  It  will  be  a 
kind  of  connecting  link  for  them.  Of  course,  they  '11 
jump  at  it  like  wildfire.  If  they  can  make  anything  at 
all  out  of  it,  they  '11  play  it  up  to-morrow  so  that  no 
body  in  this  town  can  possibly  miss  seeing  it." 

"  Pray  heaven,"  said  Peter,  referring  to  Mary  Car- 
stairs,  "  that  she  won't  see  the  Daily  this  morning!  " 

"  Yes.  Her  father's  name  would  naturally  start  her 
to  thinking,  which  would  make  things  awkward." 

"  Larry,  the  Gazette  is  going  to  print  his  name  to 
morrow  morning  as  sure  as  Smith  is  a  lying  sneak." 

"  We  've  still  got  to-day,  have  n't  we  ?  By  Jove, 
it 's  nearly  eleven  already.  A  reporter  may  be  down 
on  us  at  almost  any  minute.  We  can't  stand  being 
cross-examined.  No  searchlight  of  journalism  play 
ing  about  on  the  Cypriani  just  now,  thank  you.  My 
own  idea  is  —  ' 

"  To  grab  him,  to  batter  the  face  off  him  —  " 


THE   EDITOR   PLAYS  131 

"  No,  to  elude  him.  Not  to  be  here.  In  short,  to 
run  away." 

"  What?  You  can't  mean  that  you  are  going  to  let 
that  dog  drive  you  back  to  New  York?  " 

"  Well,  hardly.  But  I  do  mean  to  make  him  think 
he  has!  I  mean  to  run  down  the  river  a  few  miles 
and  anchor  where  they  can't  find  us,  simply  to  get  out 
of  the  way.  Then  we  '11  run  back  to-morrow  in  time 
for  the  luncheon.  What  do  you  think  of  that?  " 

Peter,  his  forehead  rumpled  like  a  corduroy  road, 
stared  at  him  fixedly  and  thought  it  over.  "  I  think 
it 's  the  best  thing  in  sight,"  he  said  judicially.  "  An 
exceedingly  neat  little  idea." 

"If  we  're  being  watched,  it  may  persuade  them 
that  we  've  gone.  Anyway,  it  will  give  us  time  to  de 
cide  what  next,"  said  Varney.  And  he  hurried  off  to 
confer  with  the  sailing-master. 

Presently  the  engine-room  bell  rang  out  a  signal. 
Orders  were  given  and  repeated  above  and  below. 
Men  began  moving  about  swiftly.  The  noise  of  coal 
scraped  hurriedly  out  of  bunkers  smote  the  air.  The 
Cypriani's  hold  throbbed  with  sudden  life. 

Varney,  running  hastily  through  the  two  newspaper 
stories  again  to  make  sure  that  they  had  missed  noth 
ing  that  might  be  important  to  them,  was  presently 
joined  by  Peter,  who  was  looking  at  his  watch  every 
third  minute  and  swearing  softly  every  time  he  looked. 
Something  had  been  discovered  amiss  with  the  ma 
chinery,  it  seemed.  The  captain  was  sure  he  would 
have  the  plaguy  thing  all  right  in  another  half -hour, 
but  you  never  could  tell.  For  his  part  he  'd  swear  that 


132       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

a  yacht  was  worse  than  an  old-style  motor  car:  you 
could  absolutely  count  on  her  to  be  out  of  order  at  any 
moment  when  you  positively  had  to  have  her. 

To  be  delayed  until  somebody  appeared  to  challenge 
their  going  was  to  lose  half  the  battle.  Varney  went 
off  to  the  sailing-master  and  spoke  with  him  again, 
concisely.  The  sailing-master,  a  sensitive  man  to  criti 
cism,  once  more  apologized,  very  technically,  and  re 
doubled  his  energies.  He  went  below  himself  to 
superintend  the  repairs  and  to  prod  the  laggards  to 
their  utmost  endeavors.  In  less  than  three  quarters  of 
an  hour,  by  Peter's  watch,  he  was  up  again,  in  a 
shower  of  falling  perspiration,  to  announce  that  all 
was  ready. 

However,  valuable  moments  had  been  lost.  It  was 
now  nearly  half-past  twelve,  or,  in  Peter's  indignant 
summary,  "  just  an  hour  and  a  half  too  late." 

Varney  glanced  toward  the  bridge. 

"  All  ready  there?  "  he  called. 

"  All  ready,  sir,"  said  the  sailing-master,  and  sprang 
for  the  indicator. 

"  Hold  on,"  said  Peter  suddenly.  "  We  're  getting 
visitors.  There 's  some  one  signaling  us  from  the 
shore." 

Varney's  heart  bounded.  He  turned  with  an  ex 
clamation  ;  but  in  the  next  breath,  he  ordered :  "  Let 
her  go,  Ferguson." 

Upon  the  shore,  at  the  spot  where  the  Cypriani's 
boat  ordinarily  landed,  stood  a  tallish,  stocky  young 
man,  looking  at  them  cheerfully  and  swabbing  his 
brow  with  a  large  blue  handkerchief.  Catching  Var- 


THE   EDITOR   PLAYS  133 

ney's  eye,  he  waved  his  hand  with  the  handkerchief 
in  it,  and  said,  for  the  second  time: 

"  Hello,  aboard  the  Cypriani!  " 

Varney  stepped  to  the  rail,  a  faint  smile  on  his  lip. 
"  Hello,  there!  What  can  we  do  for  you?  " 

"  Hot  as  merry  hell,  is  n't  it?  "  said  the  young  man 
pleasantly.  "  Send  a  boat  over  for  me,  will  you  ? 
I  'm  Hammerton,  of  the  Gazette  and  the  .New  York 
Daily,  and  I  want  to  come  aboard  for  a  little  talk." 

"Never  in  this  world!"  breathed  Peter,  sotto 
voce. 

Varney  smiled,  grimly.  "  Sorry,  Mr.  Hammerton. 
You  're  just  too  late.  We  are  starting  away  from 
Htmston  this  very  minute." 

The  Cypriani  shuddered  like  a  live  thing  and  slid 
slowly  forward. 


CHAPTER    XI 

WHICH    SHOWS    THE    HERO    A    FUGITIVE 

Four  miles  downstream,  the  river's  banks  grew  a 
long  mile  apart,  and  the  scenery  was  lonesome  and  a 
little  wild.  Here,  as  it  chanced,  there  was  flung  across 
the  water  a  thin,  rocky  island,  well-wooded  and  of  a 
respectable  length.  It  lay  nearest  the  western  shore ; 
and  not  a  hamlet  or  even  a  house,  it  seemed,  com 
manded  it  from  either  side. 

They  recognized  it  from  afar  as  ideal  anchorage  for 
'a  yacht  which  wanted  to  be  let  alone.  So  they  slowed 
down  into  the  island's  curving  shore  and  dropped  an 
chor  in  the  lee  of  it,  out  of  sight  of  the  Hunston  side 
of  the  river  and  in  little  evidence  from  any  point  in 
midstream  above  or  below. 

Securely  hidden  from  the  probing  eye  of  the  press, 
they  were  now  in  something  of  a  quandary  as  to  what 
their  next  step  should  be.  The  hour  set  for  the 
luncheon,  upon  which  their  mission  hung,  was  only 
twenty-four  hours  away :  and  they  had  no  idea 
whether  the  guest  of  honor  intended  to  come  or  stay 
away.  Varney  was  torn  between  the  necessity  of 
keeping  clear  of  reporters,  and  the  even  more  pressing 
necessity  of  calling  upon  Mary  Carstairs.  If  to  go  to 
town  was  a  risk,  not  to  go  to  town  was  a  much  greater 
one. 


THE   HERO   A   FUGITIVE  135 

They  finally  decided  that  Peter  should  go  to  Hun- 
ston  first,  at  once  and  alone.  He  would  walk  in,  lest 
the  use  of  the  Cypriani  boat  should  betray  them;  and 
there  take  charge  of  the  situation  and  see  what  could 
be  done. 

"  You  sit  tight,"  Peter  urged,  "  and  give  me  a 
chance  at  it  first.  The  Gazette  has  got  nothing  on  me, 
you  know ;  they  can  camp  on  my  shirt-tail  till  they  get 
good  and  tired.  Meantime,  I  '11  spread  it  around  that 
you  've  gone  away  and  that  I  'm  hanging  on  a  day  or 
two  longer  to  help  Hare.  You  only  came  on  a  pleas 
ure  trip,  and  all  these  sensational  lies  spoiled  your 
pleasure :  so  you  pulled  out.  That 's  plausible  and 
reasonably  true,  you  see.  Then  I  'm  going  to  find 
that  fellow  Hammerton  and  try  to  bluff  him  off." 

"How?" 

"  I  'd  much  like  to  give  him  money,  but  it 's  never 
safe  to  try  that  with  reporters.  Oh,  I  '11  hobnob  with 
the  fellow,  hand  him  cigars,  jolly  him  along  about  the 
neat  way  they  got  revenge  on  us  for  the  meeting,  and 
sort  of  take  it  for  granted  that  the  incident  ended 
when  they  chased  you  away  from  town.  If  he  seems 
dubious  and  acts  as  if  he  meant  to  work  on  the 
'  secret  mission  '  idea  just  the  same,  I  '11  go  in  and 
call  on  Coligny  Smith.  Oh,  I  'm  not  going  to  hit  him- 
If  I  had  n't  known  that  would  be  the  worst  possible 
tactics,  I  'd  have  gone  uptown  at  nine  o'clock  this 
morning  and  yanked  him  out  of  bed  by  his  long,  lying 
ears.  I  'm  only  going  to  talk  to  him  in  a  kindly  way. 
He  told  us  himself  that  he  was  out  for  the  hard  money, 
you  know." 


136       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  All  right,"  said  Varney. 

Peter  hesitated.  "  You  've  got  to  go  in,  I  suppose? 
It 's  hard  luck.  Here  we  are  working  overtime  to 
build  up  the  popular  idea  that  you  've  quit  and  gone 
back  to  New  York.  It'll  be  deuced  awkward  if  that 
reporter  nabs  you  the  minute  you  set  foot  in  Hunston." 

"  I  've  got  to  risk  it.  I  '11  wait  a  while,  though,  and 
give  them  a  chance  to  drop  the  trail.  And  when  I  do 
go  in,  I  'm  not  going  with  a  brass  band." 

"  There 's  not  the  least  hurry,"  said  Peter. 
"  You  've  got  all  the  rest  of  the  day  —  to-morrow 
morning,  too,  for  that  matter.  Wait  here  till  you  hear 
from  me,  \vill  you?  Maybe  I  can  turn  up  something 
which  will  save  you  from  having  to  go  in  at  all." 

Varney  grinned.  "  Remember  yesterday,  Peter  ? 
—  when  you  were  coming  back  at  ten  o'clock  and  came 
at  four?  No  more  unlimited  contracts  from  me.  It 
is  twenty  minutes  past  one  now.  You  can  get  in  by 
two  thirty  if  you  hustle.  I  must  start  in  by  half -past 
four.  It  would  n't  be  safe  to  wait  any  longer." 

"  Give  me  a  show,  will  you?    Make  it  five,  anyway." 

"  Five,  then.  If  you  're  not  back  on  the  dot,  in  I 
start  for  my  call.  Till  we  meet  again." 

Peter  started  down  the  stair,  hesitated,  turned  and 
came  back  again.  "  Larry,"  he  said,  with  sudden 
gruffness,  "  of  course,  we  've  both  been  thinking  that 
if  it  had  n't  been  for  me,  none  of  this  mess  would  have 
happened.  I  kick  myself  when  I  think  — 

"  Drop  it,  Peter.  Nobody  in  the  world  could  have 
foreseen  —  " 

"  Every  ass  in  the  United  States,"  said  Maginnis, 


THE   HERO   A   FUGITIVE  137 

his  ponderous  foot  on  the  ladder,  "  could  have  fore 
seen  it  but  me.  I  just  want  you  to  know  that  politics 
is  absolutely  sidetracked  now.  Before  I  '11  let  this  deal 
of  ours  fall  through,  I  '11  see  Hare  licked  till  they  can't 
scrape  him  together  afterward  with  a  fine-tooth  comb." 

It  was  deadly  quiet  on  the  yacht  after  Peter  left. 
At  two  o'clock  Varney  went  down  to  a  solitary  lunch 
eon.  At  quarter  past,  followed  by  the  reproachful 
gaze  of  McTosh,  he  came  out  again.  In  the  pit  of  his 
stomach  reposed  a  great  emptiness,  but  it  was  not 
hunger.  He  felt  restless,  high-strung,  all  made  of 
nerves.  He  wanted  to  do  something  of  a  violent,  phy 
sical  sort,  the  more  grueling  the  better;  and  his  task 
was  to  loll  in  an  easy-chair  under  a  pretty  awning  and 
inspect  the  landscape. 

The  port  side  of  the  Cypriani  was  jammed  as  close 
into  the  island  as  the  science  of  navigation  made  possi 
ble.  Varney  went  over  to  the  other  side  and  sat  down 
to  wait.  In  front  of  him,  a  hundred  yards  away,  the 
western  bank  rose  abruptly  from  the  water's  edge, 
reaching  here  and  there  to  loftiness.  There  were 
woods  upon  it,  thick  and  silent,  which  looked  as  if  the 
defiling  hand  of  man  had  never  entered  there.  At  his 
back  was  the  still,  empty  little  island;  at  either  side 
stretched  the  deserted  river. 

He  thought  it  as  lonely  a  spot  as  could  have  been 
found  in  a  clay's  journey,  but  a  moment  later  he  dis 
covered  his  mistake.  It  was  suddenly  borne  in  upon 
him  that  the  tall,  thin  object  which  nestled  so  closely 
among  the  trees  a  mile  to  the  south  that  it  was  scarcely 
distinguishable  from  them,  was  in  reality  the  spire  of 


138       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

some  church;    and  he  knew  that  he  was  much  closer 
to  his  kind  than  he  had  thought. 

And  then,  in  time,  he  noticed  other  things.  Be 
fore  a  great  while,  he  saw  a  boat  with  one  person  in 
it  —  a  woman  he  thought  —  put  out  from  the  shore 
at  about  where  the  village  must  be  and  start  across  to 
the  other  bank.  And  later,  as  the  afternoon  wore  on, 
he  caught  sight  of  a  canoe,  a  few  hundred  yards  up 
stream,  rocking  idly  down  with  the  current.  An 
elderly-looking  man  sat  in  it,  with  a  short  brown  beard 
and  sun-goggles  showing  under  his  soft  hat  —  for  the 
water  burned  under  a  brilliant  sky  —  stolidly  fishing 
and  reading  a  book.  He  looked  like  a  rusticating  col 
lege  professor  —  of  Greek,  say  —  and  this  theory 
seemed  to  be  supported  by  his  obvious  ignorance  as  to 
how  to  keep  a  canoe  on  the  popular  side  of  the  water. 

And  later  still  a  rowboat  came  swinging  briskly  up 
the  quiet  channel  where  the  yacht  lay  and  passed  her 
at  fifty  yards.  A  man  and  a  woman  sat  in  it,  presum 
ably  bound  for  Hunston,  and  they  stared  at  the  hid 
den,  detected  Cypriani  with  a  degree  of  frank  interest 
which  suggested  that  they  would  not  fail  to  mention 
the  strange  sight  to  every  acquaintance  they  met  in 
town. 

"  That 's  the  beauty  about  a  yacht,"  thought  Var- 
ney,  annoyed.  "  You  might  as  well  try  to  hide  an 
elephant  in  a  hall  room." 

But  his  mind  soon  strayed  from  the  pair  of  bump 
kins  and  went  off  to  other  and  more  pressing  matters. 
He  had  now,  not  one  great  difficulty  to  meet  and  over 
come,  but  two.  One  of  them  was  to  make  Uncle 


THE   HERO  A   FUGITIVE  139 

Elbert's  daughter  keep  her  engagement  with  him. 
The  other  was  to  prevent  the  Gazette  from  linking  the 
name  of  the  Cypriani  with  the  name  of  Carstairs  to 
morrow  morning.  About  the  first  of  these  he  allowed 
himself  no  doubts.  If  the  worst  came  to  the  worst,  he 
would  turn  to  Mrs.  Carstairs.  Brutal  it  might  be  to 
compel  the  mother  to  introduce  the  kidnapper  to  his 
quarry,  her  daughter;  but  that  was  no  fault  of  his. 
He  would  do  his  duty  by  Mrs.  Carstairs's  husband,  no 
matter  who  got  hurt.  Miss  Carstairs  should  come  to 
the  Cypriani  to-morrow  as  she  had  promised.  In 
heaven  or  earth,  on  land  or  sea,  there  was  no  power 
which  should  keep  him  from  having  his  will  there. 

But  then  there  was  the  Gazette.  Smith,  the  clever, 
would  doubt  that  the  Cypriani  had  really  gone  back 
to  New  York.  Suppose,  since  he  could  not  find  her,  he 
would  venture  a  few  shrewd  guesses  in  his  paper  to 
morrow  morning  connecting  that  "  secret  mission " 
the  Daily  had  mentioned  with  Mrs.  Elbert  Carstairs. 
Miss  Carstairs  would  see  what  the  Gazette  said;  and 
what  questions  wrould  she  have  to  ask  him  before  she 
would  come  as  his  guest  to  the  yacht?  .  .  . 

A  ripple  of  water  fell  across  the  young  man's 
thought,  and  he  glanced  up.  The  college  professor, 
whom  the  current  had  washed  much  nearer  now,  fan 
cying,  it  appeared,  that  he  had  got  a  bite,  had  suddenly 
thrown  himself  far  over  the  edge  of  his  canoe,  stretch 
ing  his  rod  to  the  farthest  reach.  The  slender  birch- 
bark  tipped  so  violently  that  even  he  noticed  it;  and 
the  next  instant,  he  sprang  back  again,  rocking  at  a 
great  rate. 


140 

"  Simpleton !  "  thought  Varney.  "  He  will  go  over 
in  a  minute.  .  .  ." 

Now  her  face  rose  before  him  as  he  had  seen  it 
first  last  night  at  Stanhope's  cottage,  radiant  as  a 
dream  come  true  —  looking  at  him  and  saying : 
"  I  'd  like  it  very  much  if  you  could  just  trust  me!  " 
And  he  saw  her  again  when  she  had  looked  at  him,  eye 
to  eye  over  the  many  heads  before  the  theatre,  with 
only  blank  unrecognition  in  her  glance,  or  had  there 
been,  after  all,  a  sort  of  latent  sorrowfulness  there? 
And  then  he  saw  her  once  more,  as  she  stood  in  the 
little  box-office,  her  cheeks  suddenly  stained  red,  when 
she  begged  him,  please,  not  to  ask  her  to  discuss  it 
any  more.  .  .  . 

A  sudden  sharp  thought  came  to  him,  putting  all  his 
imaginings  to  flight,  a  thought  so  vital  and  so  obvious 
that  it  was  incredible  that  it  had  not  once  crossed  his 
mind  before.  If  the  Gazette  doubted  that  he  had  re 
turned  to  New  York,  if  it  was  still  on  his  trail  and  still 
wanted  to  embarrass  him,  it  would  send  a  man  straight 
to  Mrs.  Car  stairs. 

How  could  he  possibly  have  overlooked  that  ?  With 
the  secret  of  the  Cypriani's  ownership  out,  of  course 
that  would  be  the  first  thing  Smith  would  think  of :  to 
ask  Mrs.  Carstairs  what  had  brought  her  husband's 
yacht  to  Hunston.  And  when  the  reporter  went,  who 
could  say  what  damaging  admission  he  might  surprise 
out  of  the  poor  lady,  or  at  the  least  what  inklings  to 
hang  diabolical  guesses  upon?  Worst  of  all,  he  might 
see  Miss  Carstairs  herself  —  awaken  no  one  knew 
what  suspicions  in  her  already  perplexed  mind. 


THE   HERO   A   FUGITIVE  141 

He  sprang  up  and  glanced  at  his  watch.  It  was 
twenty  minutes  past  four.  Every  minute  had  become 
precious  now,  and  waiting  for  Peter  was  of  course  not 
to  be  thought  of.  While  he  loitered  ineffectually  here, 
Coligny  Smith,  four  miles  away,  might  be  doing  his 
plans  the  irremediable  injury.  And  he  started  for  the 
cabin  swiftly  to  get  his  hat. 

But  there  came  an  interruption  which  stopped  him 
short.  A  quick  loud  splashing  and  sudden  cries  arose 
from  the  water  near  at  hand ;  and  he  divined  instantly 
what  had  happened.  The  college  professor,  like  the 
ass  he  was,  had  upset  his  canoe. 

Varney  halted,  strode  back  to  the  rail.  The  profes 
sor  came  up  spluttering,  blowing  quarts  of  water  from 
his  mouth  and  nose,  making  feeble  strokes  with  his 
ineffective,  collegiate  arms. 

"  Help!  "  he  called  in  a  thin  watery  voice.  "  Help! 
I  can't  swim."  .Whereon,  he  immediately  bobbed 
under  again. 

Of  course,  there  was  nothing  to  do  but  accede  to 
that  request. 

"  Lay  hold  of  the  canoe,"  called  Varney  impatiently, 
when  the  poor  fellow  reappeared.  "  I  '11  send  a  boat 
down  for  you." 

There  had  been  no  chance  of  his  drowning :  for  the 
overturned  canoe  was  staunch,  and  floated,  a  splendid 
life-belt,  not  a  foot  away  from  him.  At  Varney 's 
word,  he  seized  hold  of  it  feebly,  with  both  hands. 
The  crew  were  quick.  One  or  two  of  them  had  been 
watching  the  madman's  antics  for  some  time,  it  ap 
peared  ;  and  they  had  a  boat  down  and  over  to  him 
in  no  time. 


142       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

Sopping  with  water,  dripping  it  from  his  clothes  and 
his  hair  and  his  brown  academic  beard,  a  dazed  and 
pitiable-looking  object,  he  came  up  the  ladder  not 
without  nimbleness,  and  stepped  through  the  gangway 
upon  the  deck. 

Varney  took  it  that  his  own  duties  in  the  matter 
were  now  at  an  end.  "  Hold  your  places,"  he  called 
to  the  boat  crew.  "  I  shall  need  you  myself  at  once." 

Then  he  turned  hurriedly  to  the  man  he  had  rescued, 
who  stood  silently  on  the  deck,  wringing  cups  of  water 
from  the  skirts  of  his  black  cutaway  coat. 

"  I  '11  have  them  bring  you  dry  clothes,"  he  said 
swiftly,  "and  anything  else  you  need.  You'll  ex 
cuse  me  ?  I  am  compelled  to  — 

But  at  that  he  stopped  dead;  for  the  brown  beard 
of  the  college  professor  suddenly  loosened  and  fell 
upon  the  deck.  The  professor,  riot  at  all  discomposed 
by  the  extraordinary  accident,  kicked  it  carelessly  to 
one  side,  and  pitching  his  large  hat  and  goggles  after 
it,  faced  Varney  with  a  jovial  smile. 

"  Y'ou  don't  happen  to  have  a  thimble-full  of  red 
eye  about,  do  you,  Mr.  Varney?"  he  asked  chattily. 
"  I  'in  Hammerton,  of  the  Gazette  and  the  Daily,  you 
know,  and  that  river  down  there  is  z\.'ct." 


CHAPTER    XII 

A    YELLOW    JOURNALIST    SECURES    A    SCOOP    BUT    FAILS 
TO    GET    AWAY    WITH    IT 

Garbed  in  a  suit  of  Varney's  clothes,  warmed  be 
neath  his  belt  by  a  libation  from  the  Cypriani's  choicest 
stock,  eased  as  to  his  person  by  a  pillow  beneath  his 
head  and  a  comfortable  rest  for  his  feet,  Charlie  Ham- 
merton  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 

"  I  'm  not  crazy  about  those  grand-stand  plays  as  a 
rule,"  he  said.  "  Because  in  the  first  place  they  're 
yellow,  and  in  the  second  place  they  're  a  darned  lot  of 
bother.  But  I  just  had  to  see  you  —  I  guess  you  know 
why  —  and  I  couldn't  think  of  anything  else  that 
struck  me  as  really  sure.  How  'd  I  do  it  ?  Fair  imi- 
tashe,  hey?  And  I  only  told  one  lie,  which  is  pretty 
good  for  a  proposition  of  this  sort.  I  can  swim,  Mr. 
Varney.  Like  a  blooming  duck." 

Varney  laughed.  "  You  're  half  an  hour  too  late  in 
telling  me  that,  you  know !  But  tell  me  how  you  man 
aged  all  this:  it  was  so  clever!  And  do  try  one  of 
these  cigars." 

They  sat  at  ease  on  the  awninged  after-deck,  a 
wicker  table  between  them  convivial  with  decanters  and 
their  recognized  appurtenances,  like  two  old  friends 
met  for  a  happy  reunion.  The  Gazette's  star  reporter 
was  as  different  from  one's  conception  of  a  dangerous 


144       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

adversary  as  it  is  possible  for  a  man  to  be.  He  seemed 
only  a  pleasant-faced,  friendly  boy  of  twenty-three  or 
four,  with  an  honest  eye  and  a  singularly  infectious 
laugh. 

"  Don't  mind  if  I  do  —  thanks!  "  said  Hammerton, 
to  the  proffer  of  cigars.  "  Well,  it  was  n't  so  very 
hard.  After  you  steamed  off,  and  left  me  gazing  ner 
vously  out  to  sea  like  a  deserted  fisher's  wife,  I  - 

"  No,  you  don't !  "  laughed  Varney.  "  Begin  way 
back  at  the  beginning.  I  'm  as  ignorant  as  a  baby 
about  all  this,  you  know." 

Hammerton  rather  liked  the  idea  of  lolling  on  a 
luxurious  yacht  and  explaining  to  the  outwitted  owner 
just  how  he  had  done  it. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  it  's  like  this.  When  you  fellows 
jumped  in  and  kidnapped  Ryan  and  banged  the  ad 
ministration  in  the  eye  and  slapped  the  Gazette  some 
stinging  ones  on  the  wrist,  of  course,  we  could  n't  just 
sit  still  and  go  quietly  on  with  our  knitting.  Nay,  nay ! 
So  we  played  up  that  gossip  about  you  as  strong  as  we 
could,  sort  of  guessing  that  it  might  hurt  your  feelings 
a  little.  I'm  going  to  be  frank  with  you,  you  see! 
And  then  another  idea  came  to  us  that  wasn't  half 
bad.  You  said  you  were  Mr.  Laurence  Varney  of 
New  York.  Well,  whether  that  was  true  or  not  - 
begging  your  pardon,  of  course !  —  that  gave  it  a 
New  York  interest,  don't  you  see?  So  Mr.  Smith, 
more  by  way  of  a  feeler  than  anything  else,  wired  it 
off  to  the  Daily  —  " 

"  Why,"  interrupted  Varney,  "  I  thought  you  were 
the  correspondent  of  the  Daily?  ' 


A   YELLOW   JOURNALIST  145 

"  So  I  am.  But  this  time  it  was  only  nominal. 
He  's  pretty  fond  of  doing  it  himself,  Smith  is.  Well, 
as  soon  as  I  got  down  this  morning,  he  called  me  in 
and  showed  me  the  Daily.  You  've  seen  it,  I  sup 
pose?  Of  course,  we  were  struck  with  the  way  our 
story  had  caught  on,  and  particularly  with  the  post 
script  about  Elbert  Carstairs  and  the  mystery  idea. 
Smith  said :  '  There  appears  to  be  more  in  this  than 
meets  the  eye,  Charles.  Hr  Jle  you  down  to  the  Cyp- 
riani,  or  ever  the  birds  be  flown.'  So  I  hustled. 
But  then  I  did  a  fool  thing  that  nearly  gummed  the 
game  entirely.  Just  at  the  edge  of  the  woods,  I  met  a 
boy  coming  up  the  hill. 

"  Maybe  you  remember  that  kid,  Mr.  Varney  —  the 
telegraph  boy?  He  was  just  on  his  way  back  from  the 
yacht  when  I  ran  into  him." 

"  Come  to  think  of  it,  I  believe  I  did  see  that  boy 
hanging  around  here." 

"  As  hard  a  little  nut,"  said  Hammerton,  "  as  you 
ever  saw  in  your  life.  When  he  saw  me,  he  stopped 
short  and  asked  where  I  was  going.  I  told  him  to  the 
yacht.  *  'T  ain't  no  use,'  he  said  —  I  won't  try  to  give 
his  lingo  —  '  they  've  gone.'  And  the  little  devil  actu 
ally  went  on  to  tell  me  how  he  had  overheard  the  two 
gentlemen  talking  —  guys  he  called  you  —  and  how 
you  had  decided  to  return  to  New  York  at  once,  and 
how  he  had  looked  back  from  the  shore  and  seen  the 
yacht  already  steaming  away." 

Thus  Varney  learned  that  he  had  one  friend  in 
Hunston  who  was  true  to  him,  according  to  his  poor 
little  lights;  and  he  felt  that  that  kindly  lie  of  Tommy 


146       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

Orrick's,  if  it  was  ever  set  down  against  him  anywhere, 
must  be  the  kind  that  is  blotted  out  again  in  tears. 

"  Why,  I  've  been  good  to  that  kid,"  said  Hammer- 
ton,  "  giving  him  cigar-ends  nearly  every  time  I  see 
him  and  that  sort  of  thing.  I  never  thought  he  had 
so  much  pure  malice  in  him.  Well,  like  a  fool,  I 
turned  right  around  and  went  back.  I  felt  so  pleased 
about  it  —  for  of  course  that  was  just  what  the 
Gazette  wanted  —  that  I  dropped  in  at  the  Ottoman 
for  an  eye-opener,  and  by  Jove !  it  was  nearly  an  hour 
before  I  got  back  to  the  office." 

He  laughed,  at  first  ruefully,  then  merrily  —  for 
had  not  everything  turned  out  in  the  most  satisfactory 
way  in  the  world  ? 

"  Smith  's  a  beaut,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head  rem- 
iniscently.  "  I  don't  believe  anything  ever  got  away 
from  him  since  he  was  big  enough  to  sit  in  front  of  a 
desk.  When  I  told  him  that  you  fellows  had  gone  back 
to  New  York,  he  never  batted  an  eye.  He  just  pulled 
a  telescope  out  of  the  bottom  drawer  of  his  desk  and 
went  up  to  the  roof.  In  two  minutes  he  was  down 
again.  '  Charles,'  he  said  in  that  quiet  biting  way  of 
his,  '  God  may  have  put  bigger  fools  than  you  into 
this  world,  but  in  his  great  mercy  he  has  not  sent  them 
to  retard  the  work  of  the  Gazette.  The  yacht  lies  pre 
cisely  where  she  has  lain  for  these  two  days.  Will  it 
be  quite  convenient  for  you  to  drop  down  there  and 
have  a  talk,  or  do  you  design  to  wait  until  the  gentle 
men  call  at  your  desk  and  beg  the  privilege  of  telling 
you  all?'" 

He  laughed  again,  this  time  without  a  trace  of  re- 


147 

sentment;  and  so  merry  and  spontaneous  was  this 
laugh  that  Varney  could  not  help  joining  in. 

"  I  suppose  old  Smith  can  tell  you  to  go-to-hell  more 
politely,  yet  more  thoroughly,  than  any  man  that  ever 
lived.  I  ran  —  and  I  was  just  in  time  at  that,  hey? 
Well,  when  you  fellows  steamed  off,  I  kind  of  sus 
pected  that  you  weren't  going  very  far.  So  I  got  a 
boy  and  had  him  trail  you  down  the  old  River  road  on 
a  wheel.  By  the  time  he  got  back  and  told  me  that  I 
had  sized  it  up  about  right,  I  had  my  plans  arranged 
and  my  make-up  all  ready.  That  make-up  was  rather 
neat,  I  thought,  what?  Meantime,  a  long  wire  had 
come  in  from  the  Daily  office,  which  made  me  keener 
than  ever  to  see  you.  So  I  hired  another  wheel,  ran 
on  down,  borrowed  a  canoe  from  a  man  I  know  here, 
and  I  guess  you  know  the  rest." 

"I  should  say  I  did,"  said  Varney.  "Ha,  ha!  I 
should  rather  say  I  did." 

One  reason  why  it  wras  so  advantageous  to  make  the 
boy  talk  was  that  it  gave  one  a  chance  to  think.  All 
the  time  that  he  had  listened  so  pleasantly  to  this  gar 
rulous  chatter,  Varney  had  been  swiftly  planning. 
Now  he  had  the  situation  pretty  well  analyzed  and 
saw  all  the  ways  that  there  were. 

He  might  send  the  reporter  away  convinced  that 
there  was  nothing  in  this  new  theory,  after  all,  that 
the  Gazette's  trump  card  in  fighting  Maginnis  and  Re 
form  was  still  his  own  unhappy  resemblance  to  the 
outlawed  author.  Or  he  might  send  him  off  with 
enough  of  a  new  theory  to  make  him  think  it  unneces 
sary  to  go  to  Mrs.  Carstairs  or  her  daughter  —  the 


i48       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

fatal  possibility.  Or,  if  both  of  these  proved  im 
practicable  as  they  almost  certainly  would,  there  was 
only  one  course  left :  he  would  not  let  Hammerton  go 
away  at  all. 

"  But  have  another  little  drop  or  two,  won't  you  ? 
Those  dips  with  your  clothes  on  are  n't  a  bit  good  for 
the  health." 

"  Well,  just  a  little  tickler,"  said  Charlie  Hammer- 
ton.  But  he  permitted  himself  to  be  helped  quite  lib 
erally,  with  no  protesting  "  when."  "  My  regards, 
Mr.  Varney !  Also  my  compliments  and  thanks  for 
accepting  the  situation  like  such  a  genuine  game  one." 

Varney  nodded.  "  The  fortunes  of  war,  Mr.  Ham 
merton.  But  do  go  on.  You  have  no  idea  how 
interesting  the  newspaper  game  is  to  an  outsider, 
particularly  —  ha,  ha !  —  when  it  walks  right  across 
his  own  quiet  career.  As  I  understand  it,  you  're  on 
the  regular  staff  of  the  Gazette,  and  then  are  a  special 
correspondent  of  the  Dally,  besides?" 

Hammerton,  cocksure  of  his  game  and  pleasantly 
cheered  by  the  potent  draught,  thought  that  he  had 
never  interviewed  so  agreeable  a  man. 

"  That 's  it  exactly.  Then,  besides,  we  run  a  little 
news-bureau  at  the  Gazette,  you  know  —  sell  special 
stuff,  whenever  there  's  anything  doing,  to  papers  all 
over  the  country.  The  bureau  did  n't  touch  this  story 
last  night  —  why,  I  thought  it  was  too  '  it-is-under- 
stood  '  and  '  rumor-has-it '  and  all  that,  to  go  even 
with  the  Daily  —  in  your  old  own  town.  It  '11  be 
different  to-night,  all  right.  We  '11  query  our  whole 
string  on  it  now  —  unless,"  he  added  with  frank  de- 


A   YELLOW  JOURNALIST  149 

spondency,  "  the  darned  old  Associated  Press  decides 
to  pinch  it." 

"  Query  them,  Mr.  Hammerton  ?  " 
'  Yes,  wire  them  a  brief,  kind  of  piquant  outline 
of  the  story,  you  know,  and  ask  them  if  they  don't 
want  it.     And  I  sort  of  guess  they  '11  all  want  it,  all 
right !  " 

"  We  '11  see  about  that  in  a  minute,"  laughed  Var- 
ney.  '  There  's  lots  of  time.  Tell  me  about  that  bril 
liant  young  editor  of  yours,  Mr.  Smith.  The  men  in 
the  office  all  like  him  and  sympathize  with  his  policies, 
I  suppose?  " 

Hammerton  laughed,  doubtfully.  "  Well,  they  all 
look  up  to  him  and  respect  him  as  one  of  the  cleverest 
newspaper  men  in  the  country.  Personally,  I  like  old 
Smith  fine,  though  nobody  ever  gets  close  to  him  a 
bit.  He  's  mighty  good  to  me  —  lets  me  write  little 
editorials  two  or  three  times  a  week,  and  says  I  'm  not 
so  awful  at  it.  As  for  sympathizing  with  his  policies 
-  well,  you  know  I  'm  not  sure  Smith  sympathizes 
with  'em  much  himself.  I  have  a  kind  of  private 
hunch  that  he  's  gotten  sore  on  his  job  and  would  sell 
out  if  somebody  —  well,  suppose  we  say  our  friend 
Ryan  —  would  offer  him  his  price.  No,  I  'm  not  so 
keen  for  these  indirect  methods,  Mr.  Varney.  At  the 
same  time,  it  's  part  of  the  game,  I  suppose,  and  I  al 
ways  believe  in  playing  a  game  right  out  to  the  end,  for 
everything  there  is  in  it." 

At  the  unmistakable  significance  in  his  tone,  Varney 
looked  up  and  found  the  reporter's  eyes  fixed  upon 
him  in  an  odd  gaze  which  made  him  look  all  at  once 


ISO       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

ten  years  older  and  infinitely  difficult  to  baffle :  a  gaze 
which  made  it  plain,  in  fact,  that  the  wearer  of  it  was 
not  to  be  put  off  with  anything  short  of  the  whole 
truth.  The  next  second  that  look  broke  into  an 
easy  laugh,  and  Hammerton  was  a  chattering  boy 
again. 

But  Varney' s  mood  rose  instantly  to  meet  the  an 
tagonism  of  the  reporter's  look,  and  hung  there.  He 
pulled  a  silver  case  from  his  pocket,  selected  a  cigarette 
with  care  and  lit  it  with  deliberation.  He  had  learned 
everything  that  he  wanted  to  know ;  the  conversation 
was  beginning  to  grow  tiresome ;  and  he  found  the 
boy's  careless  self-confidence  increasingly  exasper 
ating. 

"  But  as  for  undercutting  Hare,"  laughed  Hammer- 
ton,  "  I  don't  like  it  a  - 

"  Tell  me  this,"  Varney  interrupted  coolly.  "  When 
the  Gazette  prepared  its  story  about  me  last  night,  did 
it  believe  for  one  moment  that  I  was  this  man  Stan 
hope?  " 

"  Why,  I  'm  not  the  Gazette,  of  course,"  said  Ham 
merton,  a  little  taken  aback  by  the  cool  change  of  both 
topic  and  manner,  "  but  my  private  suspicion  is  that  it 
entertained  a  few  doubts  on  the  subject.  What  do  we 
think  now?  Look  here,  Mr.  Varney,"  the  boy  said 
amiably,  "  you  've  been  white  about  this  business,  and 
I  do  really  want  to  show  that  I  appreciate  it." 

He  fumbled  in  the  side-pocket  of  his  wet  coat, 
which  hung  on  a  near-by  chair,  produced  a  damp  paper 
of  the  familiar  yellow,  smoothed  it  out  and  handed  it 
across  the  table. 


A   YELLOW   JOURNALIST  151 

"  I  guess  I  won't  keep  any  secrets  from  you,  Mr. 
Varney." 

.Varney,  taking  the  telegram  with  a  nod,  read  the 
following : 

Gazette,  HUNSTON  : 

Varney-Stanhope  story  good  stuff,  but  lacking  details, 
vague  and  inaccurate.  Stanhope  located  in  Adirondacks, 
though  not  reached.  See  Daily  to-day.  Man  on  yacht 
Varney.  Apparent  secrecy  surrounding  departure  from 
here.  Interview  him  sure  and  secure  full  statement  as 
to  business  which  brought  him  to  Hunston.  Also  inter 
view  Mrs.  Elbert  Carstairs  in  Hunston.  She  separated 
from  husband  years  ago.  His  yacht  there  with  name 
erased  suggests  mystery.  Rush  fullest  details  day-rate  if 
necessary.  Pictures  made.  Expect  complete  story  and 
interviews  early  to-night  sure. 

S.  P.  STOKES. 

"  Now,"  said  Charlie  Hammerton,  when  Varney 
looked  up,  "  you  see  why  I  went  to  such  a  lot  of  trouble 
to  get  hold  of  you." 

"  Yes,"  said  Varney,  slowly,  his  eye  upon  him,  "  I 
see." 

He  folded  the  telegram,  laid  it  at  Hammerton's 
elbow,  got  up  and  stood  with  his  hands  on  the  back  of 
his  chair,  looking  down.  At  the  thought  that  he 
had  ever  hoped  to  call  the  reporter  off,  to  stop  this 
deadly  machinery  of  journalism,  once  it  had  been 
started,  he  could  have  laughed.  The  Daily  telegram 
showed  how  impossible  that  had  always  been.  Now  it 
was  suddenly  and  overwhelmingly  plain  that  to  force 


152       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

a  fight  on  Hammerton,  which  had  been  his  favorite 
purpose  from  the  beginning,  even  to  seize  and  lock 
him  up,  would  be  of  no  avail  \vhatever.  Other  re 
porters  in  endless  procession,  waited  behind  him, 
ready  to  step  into  his  place;  and  the  pitiless  machin 
ery,  in  which  he,  Varney,  happened  to  be  caught  at 
the  moment,  would  go  steadily  grinding  on  till  it  had 
crushed  out  the  heart  of  the  hidden  truth. 

He  saw  no  way  out  at  all.  His  mind  revolved  at 
fever  heat,  while  he  said  calmly:  "Go  back  to  your 
employers,  Mr.  Hammerton,  and  report  that  you  have 
no  story  to  sell  them.  Say  further  that  since  they 
knowingly  printed  a  lying  slander  about  me  this  morn 
ing,  you,  as  an  honorable  man,  insist  upon  their  making 
full  retractions  and  apologies  to-morrow." 

Hammerton,  who  had  taken  his  interview  as  a  fore 
gone  conclusion,  looked  momentarily  astounded;  but 
on  top  of  that  his  manner  changed  again,  to  meet 
Varney's  changed  one,  in  the  wink  of  an  eye. 

"  You  can't  mean,"  he  said  briskly,  ignoring  Var 
ney's  last  remark  entirely,  "  that  you  decline  to  make  a 
statement  for  our  readers?" 

"  Why  should  I  encourage  your  readers  to  stick 
their  infernal  noses  into  my  business?" 

"  For  your  own  sake,  Mr.  Varney  —  because  every 
body  has  started  asking  questions.  To  refuse  to  an 
swer  them,  from  your  point  of  view,  is  the  worst  thing 
you  could  do.  As  you  know,  newspapers  always  have 
other  sources  of  information,  and  also  ways  of  making 
intelligent  guesses.  While  these  guesses  are  usually 
surprisingly  accurate,  it  sometimes  happens  that  we 


A   YELLOW  JOURNALIST  153 

work  out  a  theory  that  is  a  whole  lot  worse  than  the 
truth." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Varney,  with  sudden  absent- 
ness.  "  That 's  the  way  you  sell  your  dirty  papers, 
is  n't  it?  " 

"  Mr.  Varney,  why  did  you  come  — ?  "  began  Ham- 
merton,  but  stopped  short,  perceiving  that  the  other 
no  longer  listened,  and  quite  content  to  leave  him  to  a 
little  reflection. 

For  Varney,  struck  by  a  thought  so  new  that  it  was 
overwhelming,  had  unexpectedly  turned  away.  He 
leaned  upon  the  rail  and  looked  out  over  the  blue, 
sunny  water.  A  brilliant  plan  had  flashed  into  his 
mind  —  a  big  daring  plan  which,  far  more  than  any 
thing  else  he  had  thought  of,  might  be  effective  and 
final.  Instead  of  making  an  enemy  of  Hammerton, 
which  could  accomplish  nothing,  it  would  turn  him  into 
a  champion,  which  meant  victory. 

It  was  a  desperate  solution,  but  it  was  a  solution. 

After  all,  what  else  remained?  To  dismiss  the  boy 
with  nothing  would  be  to  send  him  straight  to  the 
Carstairs  house  with  no  one  knew  what  results.  To 
manhandle  him  would  be  simply  to  start  another  sleuth 
on  the  trail.  But  this  plan,  if  it  worked,  would  avoid 
that,  and  every  other,  risk  of  trouble.  And  if  it  failed, 
he  would  be  no  worse  off  than  he  was  now ;  for  in  that 
case  he  would  not  allow  Hammerton  to  go  back  to  the 
Gazette  at  all  that  day. 

He  dropped  his  cigarette  over  the  side,  turned  and 
found  the  eye  of  the  press  firmly  fastened  upon  him. 

"  Mr.  Varney,"  said  Hammerton,  with  swift  acute- 


i54       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

ness,  "  maybe  I  'm  not  as  bad  a  fellow  as  you  think. 
Why  can't  you  trust  me  with  this  story  —  of  what 
brought  you  to  Hunston,  and  what  made  you  run  away 
this  morning  and  hide?  If  it 's  really  something  that 
newspapers  have  n't  got  anything  to  do  with,  I  '11  go 
straight  back  to  the  office  and  make  them  leave  you 
alone.  Oh,  I  have  enough  influence  to  do  it,  all  right ! 
And  if  it 's  something  different  and  —  well,  a  little  un 
usual,  I  '11  promise  to  put  you  in  the  best  light  possi 
ble.  Why  don't  you  trust  me  with  it  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Varney  with  a  stormy  smile,  "  suppose 
I  do,  then!" 

"Good!"  cried  Hammerton  cordially,  observing 
him,  however,  with  some  intentness.  "  Honestly,  it 's 
the  very  best  thing  you  could  do." 

Varney  rested  upon  the  back  of  his  chair  again  and 
stood  staring  down  at  the  reporter  for  some  time  in 
silence. 

"  Mr.  Hammerton,"  he  began  presently,  "  I  know 
that  the  great  majority  of  newspaper  men  are  fair  and 
honorable  and  absolutely  trustworthy.  I  know  that  it 
is  a  part  of  their  capital  to  be  able  to  keep  a  secret  as 
well  as  to  print  one.  For  this  reason,  I  have  upon  re 
flection  decided  to  confide  —  certain  facts  to  you,  feel 
ing  sure  that  they  will  never  go  any  further  — 

"Of  course,  Mr.  Varney,"  the  reporter  interrupted, 
"  you  understand  that  I  can't  make  any  promises  in 
advance." 

"  Let  the  risk  be  mine,"  said  Varney.  "  I  am  cer 
tain  that  when  you  have  heard  \vnat  I  have  to  tell  you, 
you  will  report  to  your  papers  that  my  '  mysterious 


A   YELLOW   JOURNALIST  155 

errand  '  turns  out  to  be  simply  a  matter  of  personal 
and  private  business,  with  which  the  public  has  no  con 
cern,  and  whose  publication  at  this  time  would  hope 
lessly  ruin  it.  Mr.  Hammerton,  I  came  to  Hunston  to 
see  Miss  Mary  Carstairs." 

A  gleam  came  into  Hammerton's  eye.  Varney, 
watching  that  observant  feature,  knew  that  no  detail  of 
his  story,  or  of  his  manner  in  telling  it,  would  escape 
a  most  critical  scrutiny. 

"  The  fewer  particulars  the  better,"  he  said  grimly. 
"  I  shall  tell  the  substance  because  that  seems  now, 
after  all,  the  best  way  to  protect  the  interests  of  those 
concerned.  Mr.  Hammerton,  as  the  Daily  told  you, 
Mr.  Carstairs  and  his  wife  have  separated,  though  they 
are  still  on  friendly  terms  with  each  other.  Their  only 
child  remains  with  the  mother.  Mr.  Carstairs  is  get 
ting  old.  He  is  naturally  an  affectionate  man,  and  he 
is  very  lonely.  In  short,  he  has  become  most  anxious 
to  have  his  daughter  spend  part  of  her  time  with  him. 
Mrs.  Carstairs  entirely  approves  of  this.  The  daugh 
ter,  however,  absolutely  refuses  to  leave  her  mother, 
feeling,  it  appears,  that  nothing  is  due  her  father  from 
her.  Arguments  are  useless.  Well,  what  is  to  be 
done?  Mr.  Carstairs,  because  his  great  need  of  his 
daughter  grows  upon  him,  conceives  an  unusual  plan. 
He  will  send  an  ambassador  to  Hunston  —  unaccred 
ited,  of  course,  a  man,  young,  not  married,  who  — 
don't  think  me  a  coxcomb  —  but  who  might  be  able  to 
arouse  the  daughter's  interest.  This  ambassador  is  to 
go  on  Mr.  Carstairs's  own  yacht,  the  name,  of  course, 
being  erased,  so  that  the  daughter  may  not  recognize 


156       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

it.  He  is  to  meet  the  young  lady,  cultivate  her,  make 
friends  with  her  —  all  without  letting  her  dream  that 
he  comes  from  her  father,  for  that  would  ruin  every 
thing.  And,  then  —  " 

He  broke  off,  paused,  considered.  In  Hammertoir  s 
eye  he  saw  a  light  which  meant  sympathy,  kindly  con 
sideration,  human  interest.  He  knew  that  the  battle 
was  half  won.  He  had  only  to  say:  "  And  then  talk 
to  her  about  her  poor  old  father,  who  loves  her,  and 
who  is  growing  old  in  a  big  house  all  by  himself;  and 
tell  her  how  he  needs  her  so  sorely  that  old  grudges 
ought  to  be  forgotten;  and  ask  her,  in  the  name  of 
common  kindness,  to  come  down  and  pay  him  a  visit 
before  it  is  too  late."  He  had  only  to  say  that,  and  he 
knew,  for  he  read  it  in  Hammerton's  whole  softened 
expression,  that  the  boy  would  go  away  with  his  lips 
locked. 

But  he  could  n't  say  that,  the  reason  being  that  it 
was  not  true. 

"  And  then,"  he  said,  with  a  truthfulness  so  bold 
that  he  was  sure  the  reporter  would  not  follow  it, 
"and  then  —  don't  you  see?  he  is  to  try  to  make  her 
go  down  to  New  York  and  pay  a  visit  to  that  lonely  old 
father  who  needs  her  so  badly.  Since  she  is  so  obstin 
ate  about  it,  he  must  find  some  way  to  moke  her  go 
before  it  is  too  late.  Noiv  do  you  understand,  Mr. 
Hammerton?  Noiv  do  you  perceive  why  the  thought 
of  having  all  this  pitiful  story  scareheaded  in  a  penny 
paper  is  insufferable  to  me  ?  " 

He  towered  above  Hammerton,  crisp  words  falling 
like  leaden  bullets,  stern,  insistent,  determined  to  be 


A   YELLOW   JOURNALIST  157 

believed.  But  he  saw  a  look  dawn  on  the  younger 
man's  face  which  made  him  instantly  fear  that  he  had 
told  too  much. 

And  then  suddenly  Hammerton  sprang  to  his  feet, 
keen  eyes  shot  with  light,  ruddy  cheek  paled  a  little 
with  excitement,  fronting  Varney  in  startled  triumph 
over  the  drinks  they  had  shared. 

"Make  her!"  he  blurted  in  a  high  shrill  voice. 
"  Mr.  Varney,  you  came  up  here  to  kidnap  her!  " 

The  two  men  stared  at  each  other  in  a  moment  of 
horrified  silence.  Something  in  the  reporter's  air  of 
victory,  in  the  kind  of  thrilling  joy  with  which  he 
pounced  upon  the  carefully  guarded  little  secret  and 
dragged  it  out  into  the  light,  made  him  all  at  once 
loathsome  in  Varney's  eyes,  a  creature  unspeakably 
repellent. 

Suddenly  he  leaned  across  the  little  table  and  struck 
Hammerton  lightly  across  the  mouth  with  the  back  of 
his  hand. 

"  You  cad,"  he  said  whitely. 

But  Hammerton,  never  to  be  stopped  by  details  now, 
ignored  both  the  insult  and  the  blow.  He  was  on  the 
rail  like  a  cat,  ready  to  swim  for  it,  hot  to  take  his  great 
scoop  to  Mrs.  Carstairs,  to  Coligny  Smith,  to  readers 
of  newspapers  all  over  the  land. 

The  table  was  between  them,  and  it  went  over  with 
a  crash.  Quick  as  he  was,  Varney  was  barely  in  time. 
His  hand  fell  upon  the  reporter's  coat  when  another 
fraction  of  a  second  would  have  been  too  late.  Then 
he  flung  backward  with  a  wrench,  and  Hammerton 
came  toppling  heavily  to  the  deck. 


158       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

Smarting  with  the  pain  of  the  fall,  hot  with  anger  at 
last,  the  reporter  was  up  in  an  instant,  spitting  blood, 
and  they  clenched  with  the  swiftness  of  lightning. 
Then  they  broke  away,  violently,  and  went  at  it  in  grim 
earnest. 

It  was  the  fight  of  a  lifetime  for  each  of  them  and 
they  were  splendidly  matched.  Hammerton  was  two 
inches  the  shorter,  but  he  had  twenty  pounds  of  solid 
weight  to  offset  that ;  and  in  close  work,  especially,  his 
execution  was  polished.  They  had  it  up  and  down  the 
deck,  hammer  and  tongs,  swinging,  landing,  rushing, 
sidestepping.  At  the  first  crash  of  broken  glass  on 
the  deck,  the  crew  had  begun  to  appear,  unobtrusively 
from  all  directions.  Now  cabin-hatch,  galley-hatch, 
deck-house,  every  coign  of  vantage  along  the  battlefield 
held  its  silent  cluster  of  wondering  figures.  But  Mc- 
Tosh,  familiar  old  family  retainer,  slipped  nearer  at  the 
first  opportunity  and  whispered,  in  just  that  eager  tone 
with  which  he  pressed  a  side-dish  upon  one's  notice : 

"  Can't  I  give  you  a  little  help,  sir?  " 

"  Keep  away,  steward,"  said  Varney,  between 
clenched  teeth,  "  or  you  '11  get  hurt." 

Saying  which,  he  received  a  savage  blow  on  the  point 
of  the  chin  and  struck  the  deck  with  a  thud. 

"  Oh,  my  Gawd,  sir!  "   breathed  McTosh. 

But  his  young  master  was  on  his  feet  like  a  tiger,  in 
a  whirl  of  crazy  passion.  He  had  resolved  all  along 
that  Hammerton  would  have  to  kill  him  before  he 
should  get  away  with  that  secret.  Now  it  came  to  him 
like  a  divine  revelation  that  the  way  to  avoid  this  was 
to  kill  Hammerton.  To  that  pleasant  end,  he  goaded 


A   YELLOW  JOURNALIST  159 

his  adversary  with  a  light  blow,  sidestepped  his  rush, 
uppercutted  and  the  reporter  went  down,  almost  head 
first,  and  cruelly  hard. 

He  came  up  dazed,  game  but  very  wild,  and  Varney 
got  another  chance  promptly,  which  was  just  as  well. 
Hammerton  went  do\vn  again,  head  on  once  more,  and 
this  time  he  did  not  come  up  at  all. 

The  crew,  unable  to  repress  themselves,  let  out  a 
cheer,  and  came  crowding  on  the  deck.  But  Varney, 
standing  over  Hammerton's  limp  body,  waved  them 
back  impatiently. 

"Hold  your  noise!"  he  ordered.  "And  stand 
back !  I  'm  attending  to  this  job !  " 

He  picked  Hammerton  up  in  his  arms,  staggered 
with  him  to  his  own  stateroom,  and  laid  him  down 
on  the  bunk.  The  boy  did  not  stir,  gave  no  visi 
ble  sign  of  life.  But  when  Varney  put  his  hand  over 
the  other  s  heart,  he  found  it  beating  a\vay  quite  firmly. 
His  breathing  and  pulse  were  regular  —  everything 
was  quite  as  it  should  be.  He  would  come  round  in 
half  an  hour,  and  be  as  good  a  man  as  ever.  And  he 
would  have  a  long,  idle  time  to  rest,  and  look  after  his 
bruises  and  get  back  his  strength  again. 

Varney  took  the  key  from  the  door,  put  it  in  outside, 
turned  it  and  came  on  deck  again.  The  crew  had  van 
ished  to  their  several  haunts.  Two  deck-hands  in 
blouses  and  red  caps  had  just  completed  the  rehabili 
tation  of  the  deck,  and  at  sight  of  him  discreetly  van 
ished  forward. 

"  Ferguson,"  called  Varney,  "  a  word  with  you, 
please." 


160       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

The  grizzled  sailing-master  came  quickly,  obviously 
curious  for  an  explanation  of  these  strange  matters. 

Rapidly  Varney  explained  to  him  that  the  incarcer 
ated  man  was  a  reporter  who  thought  that  he  had  got 
hold  of  a  scandalous  story  about  Mr.  Carstairs,  and 
was  most  anxious  to  get  ashore  so  that  he  could  pub 
lish  this  scandal  all  over  the  country. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  go  to  town  immediately,"  he  con 
tinued.  "  Rumors  of  this  ugly  story  have  already  been 
started,  and  I  must  do  everything  I  can  to  nail  them. 
I  am  going  to  trust  the  responsibility  here  to  you.  As 
soon  as  I  leave  the  yacht,  I  want  you  to  start  her  down 
the  river.  That  is  to  get  the  gentleman  and  the  yacht 
out  of  the  way.  Go  straight  ahead  for  two  or  three 
hours  and  then  come  back.  Make  your  calculations  so 
that  you  '11  get  back  here  at  —  say  ten  o'clock  to-night 
-  here,  mind  you,  not  the  old  anchorage.  I  '11  be 
ready  to  come  aboard  by  that  time.  Have  two 
men  guard  that  stateroom  constantly  every  minute. 
Give  the  gentleman  every  possible  attention,  but  don't 
let  him  make  any  noise,  and  don't  let  him  get  out.  No 
matter  what  he  says  or  does,  don't  let  him  get  out. 
Do  you  follow  me  ?  " 

"  I  do,  sir.    To  the  menootest  detail." 

"If  you  carry  the  matter  through,  yon  may  rely 
upon  Mr.  Carstairs's  gratitude.  If,  on  the  other  hand, 
you  fail  —  " 

"  Oh,  I  '11  not  fail,  sir.     Have  no  fear  of  that." 

"  I  am  speaking  to  you  man  to  man,  Ferguson, 
when  I  say,  for  God's  sake  don't." 

He  walked  away  to  arrange  himself  a  little  for  the 


A   YELLOW  JOURNALIST  161 

town,  seeing  clearly  that  there  was  but  one  possible 
way  out  of  all  this  for  him  now.  The  sailing-master 
stared  after  him  with  a  very  curious  expression  upon 
his  weather-beaten  face. 

At  about  the  same  moment,  in  a  tiny  room  four 
miles  away,  an  elderly,  melancholy  man  sat  bowed  over 
a  telegraph  board  and  drowsily  plied  his  keys.  He 
was  the  Gazette's  special  operator,  and,  having  his 
orders  from  Mr.  Parker,  who  looked  after  the  news 
bureau  when  Hammerton  was  away,  he  was  methodi 
cally  going  through  his  list  like  this : 

Tribune,  PITTSBURG: 

Ferris  Stanhope  or  Laurence  Varney?  Baffling  mys 
tery  surrounding  prominent  men,  one  of  whom  now 
hiding  here.  Probable  scandal,  one  thousand  words. 

Press,  CINCINNATI  : 

Ferris  Stanhope  or  Laurence  Varney?  Baffling  mys 
tery — 


ii 


CHAPTER    XIII 

VARNEY    MEETS    HIS    ENEMY    AND    IS    DISARMED 

Varney  crossed  the  square  in  the  gathering  dusk  and 
went  slowly  up  Main  Street,  looking  about  him  as 
he  walked.  He  had  wrenched  his  ankle  slightly  in 
one  of  his  falls  upon  the  Cypriani's  deck,  and  the  four- 
mile  walk  over  the  ruts  of  the  River  road  to  the  town 
had  done  it  no  good.  Worse  yet,  it  had  made  the  trip 
down  from  the  yacht  laboriously  slow,  and  he  was  har 
ried  with  the  fear  that  the  irreparable  damage  might 
already  have  been  done. 

If  it  had  not,  if  no  reporter  had  yet  gone  to  the 
Carstairs  house,  his  one  possible  hope  of  escape  stood 
before  him  like  a  palm-tree  in  a  plain.  Stiffened  and 
strengthened  by  all  his  difficulties,  his  resolve  to  win 
throbbed  and  mounted  within  him ;  but  he  faced  the 
knowledge  that  the  odds  now  were  heavily  against  him. 
On  the  long  chance,  he  had  played  a  desperate  game, 
had  come  within  an  ace  of  winning,  and  had  lost.  His 
great  secret  which,  beyond  any  other  purpose,  he  had 
meant  to  guard  to  the  end,  was  glaringly  out.  Now 
it  was  the  iron  heart  of  his  will  that  it  should  go  no 
further.  Talkative  young  Hammerton  had  given  him 
the  hint  how  that  might  be  accomplished;  and  if  the 
method  was  extreme,  it  would  be  sure.  Whatever  the 
cost,  it  would  be  a  small  price  to  pay  for  keeping  his 


VARNEY   MEETS   HIS   ENEMY  163 

name,  and  Uncle  Elbert's,  out  of  ruinous  headlines  in 
to-morrow's  papers. 

Two  blocks  further  on  he  came  opposite  a  neat, 
three-story  brick  building,  across  the  width  of  which 
was  a  black  and  gold  signboard,  lettered  THE  GA 
ZETTE.  Below  it  was  the  large  plate-glass  window  of 
a  counting-room,  now  dark.  On  the  left  was  a  lighted 
doorway,  leading  upstairs. 

Varney  crossed,  climbed  the  stairs,  found  himself 
in  a  narrow  upstairs  hall,  rapped  upon  a  closed  ground- 
glass  door  bearing  the  legend  "  Editorial."  From 
within,  a  voice  of  unenthusiasm  bade  him  enter,  and 
he  went  in,  closing  the  door  behind  him. 

In  a  swivel-chair  by  an  open  roller-top  desk,  a  young 
man  sat,  idly  smoking  a  cigarette,  his  back  to  the  door, 
his  languorous  feet  hung  out  of  the  window.  There 
were  electric  lights  in  the  room,  but  they  were  not  lit. 
All  the  illumination  that  there  was  came  from  a  single 
dingy  gas-fixture  stuck  in  the  wall  near  the  desk,  but 
that  was  enough. 

Varney  came  closer.     "  Smith,"  said  he. 

"  Well,"  said  Smith. 

"  I  have  come  to  see  you." 

"  Well  —  look  away,"   said  Smith. 

There  was  not  a  trace  of  the  "  Hast  thou  found 
me?"  in  the  editor's  voice  or  his  manner.  If  he 
expected  assassination,  he  did  not  appear  to  mind.  He 
sat  on  without  turning,  staring  apathetically  out  of  the 
window,  just  as  he  had  done  when  he  watched  Varney 
cross  and  come  in  at  his  door. 

"  I  have  come,"  said  Varney,  "  because  I  understand 


164       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

that  you  are  the  sole  owner,  as  well  as  the  editor,  of 
this  paper.  Am  I  right  ?  " 

Smith  lit  a  fresh  cigarette,  flipped  the  old  one  out  of 
the  window  and  paused  to  watch  the  boys  outside  fight 
for  it.  Half-smoked  stubs  came  frequently  out  of  that 
window  when  Mr.  Smith  sat  there  and  many  boys  in 
Hunston  knew  it. 

"  Assuming  that  you  are?  "  queried  he. 

"  Assuming  that,"  said  Varney,  "  I  '11  say  that  I  have 
come  to  buy  this  paper.  And  to  discharge  you  from 
the  editorship." 

Smith  drew  in  his  feet,  and  swung  slowly  around. 
The  two  men  measured  each  other  in  an  interval  of 
intelligent  silence.  On  the  whole,  upon  this  close  view, 
Varney  found  it  harder  to  think  of  Smith  as  a  con 
temptible  cur  who  circulated  lying  slanders  for  profit 
than  as  the  young  man  who  wrote  the  famous  editorials. 

"  And  still  they  come,"  said  Smith,  enigmatically. 
"  Three  of  them  in  one  day  —  well,  well !  "  And  he 
added  musingly :  "  So  I  have  stung  you  as  hard  as 
that,  have  I  ?  " 

"  Let  us  say  rather,"  said  Varney,  whose  present 
tack  was  diplomacy,  "  that  I  have  some  loose  money 
which  I  want  to  stow  away  in  a  paying  little  enter 
prise." 

"  I  am  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  boast  of  a  kind 
ness,"  continued  Smith,  in  his  faintly  mocking  manner, 
"  but  I  gave  you  fair  warning  to  leave  town." 

"  Instead  I  stayed.  And  an  exceedingly  interesting 
town  I  have  found  it.  Something  doing  every  minute. 
But,  as  I  just  remarked,  I  have  looked  in  to  buy  your 
paper." 


VARNEY   MEETS    HIS   ENEMY  165 

"  If  I  were  like  some  I  know,"  meditated  Smith, 
"  I  'd  be  thinking :  '  The  Lord  has  delivered  him  into 
my  hand,  aye,  delivered  dear  old  Beany.'  I  'd  em 
barrass  you  with  questions,  make  you  blush  with  cate 
chisms.  But  I  am  a  merciful  man,  and  observe  that  I 
ask  you  nothing.  You  want  to  buy  the  Gazette  for  an 
investment.  Let  it  stand  at  that.  So  you  're  the 
money-grubbing  sort  that  supposes  that  everything  on 
God's  hassock  has  its  price  ?  " 

"  I  believe  it 's  street  knowledge  that  the  Gazette 
has  its.  But  I  called  really  not  so  much  to  discuss 
ethics,  as  to  ascertain  your  figure." 

Smith  gave  a  sigh  which  was  not  without  its  trace 
of  mockery.  "  Fortunately,  I  am  hardened  to  insults. 
Editors  are  expected  to  stand  anything.  Times  are 
dull  —  nothing  much  to  do  —  drop  around  and  kick 
the  editor.  You  've  no  idea  what  we  have  to  put  up 
with  from  spring  poets  alone.  Rejoice,  B  — ,  that  is, 
Mr. —  er  —  Blank,  that  the  Gazette  is  never  to  be 
yours." 

"  You  can't  mean  that  you  decline  to  sell?  " 

"  When  I  implied  to  you  just  now  that  I  was  sole 
owner  of  the  Gazette,  I  \vas,  of  course,  speaking  rather 
reminiscently  than  in  the  strict  light  of  present  facts." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that?  " 

"  That  I  sold  the  Gazette  at  four  o'clock  this  after 
noon." 

For  an  instant  the  room  whirled  and  Varney  saw 
nothing  in  it  but  the  odd  eyes  of  Coligny  Smith  steadily 
fixing  him.  By  the  shock  of  that  blow,  he  realized 
that,  after  all,  he  had  wholly  counted  upon  succeeding 


1 66       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

in  this.  From  the  moment  when  he  had  turned  his 
state-room  key  on  unconscious  Charlie  Hammerton,  he 
had  recognized  it  as  his  one  chance.  And  now  he  was 
too  late.  Clever  Ryan,  who  missed  nothing,  doubtless 
suspecting  that  the  faithless  editor  who  had  sold  out 
once  to  him  might  now  be  planning  to  do  it  again  to 
a  higher  bidder,  had  outstripped  him.  And  the  Gazette 
to-morrow  would  damn  him  utterly. 

But  Varney's  face,  as  these  thoughts  came  to  him, 
wore  a  faint,  non-committal  smile.  "  That  is  final,  I 
suppose?  " 

"  As  death,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  I  leave  Hun- 
ston  permanently  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Who  was  the  buyer?" 

"  There  is  really  no  reason  why  I  should  divulge 
his  confidence  that  I  know  of;  but,  curses  on  me,  I  '11 
do  it  if  you'll  tell  me  this:  Where  is  Charles  Ham 
merton?  " 

Varney  laid  his  hat  and  stick  on  the  table,  to  rid 
his  hands  of  them,  and  faced  Mr.  Smith,  leaning 
lightly  against  it. 

"  I  came  here,  Smith,  to  ask  questions,  not  to 
answer  them.  On  second  thoughts,  I  withdraw  my  last 
one,  for  I  can  guess  the  answer.  But  before  we  pro 
ceed  further,  I  want  you  to  tell  me  this:  what  made 
you  sell  ?  " 

The  editor  pitched  another  cigarette-end  out  of  the 
window.  Again  a  shout  from  the  street  indicated  that 
it  had  become  a  bone  of  bitter  contest  among  the 
town's  smokers  of  the  sub-rosa  class. 

"  Suppose  I  were  to  tell  you,"  said  Smith  slowly, 


VARNEY   MEETS   HIS   ENEMY  167 

"  that  I  anticipate  a  shakeup  here  which  will  cut  the 
backbone  out  of  my  profits?  What  would  you  say  to 
that?" 

"  I  suppose  I  should  say  that  it  was  ever  the  custom 
of  rats  to  desert  a  sinking  ship.  So  that  was  your 
mainspring,  was  it?" 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Smith.  "  I  am  taking 
what  is  technically  known  as  a  small  rise  out  of  you. 
You  ask  why  I  sold.  It  was  a  man  with  the  price. 
Money,"  began  Mr.  Smith,  "  screams.  The  cash  on 
my  desk  was  this  man's  way  of  doing  business,  and 
a  good  deal  it  was.  However,  it  '11  net  him  six  per 
cent  year  in  and  out,  at  that  —  a  good  rate  in  these 
lean  times.  I,  of  course,  did  better.  I  got  —  shall  we 
say  ?  —  pickings.  The  past  tense  already,  heigho ! 
Well,  it 's  been  a  most  instructive  life.  My  father 
taught  me  to  write.  He  was  esteemed  a  good  editor, 
and  he  was,  but  at  eighteen  I  was  correcting  his 
leaders  for  him.  Hand  Greeley  a  soft  pencil  and  a  pass 
at  the  encyclopedia,  so  he  used  to  say,  and  he  could 
prove  anything  under  the  sun.  I  am  like  that,  except 
that  —  well,  I  don't  believe  I  need  the  encyclopedia. 
It  was  n't  Greeley  who  made  the  remark,  of  course. 
It 's  a  rule  on  the  press  to  pin  all  journalistic  anec 
dotes  on  Greeley.  You  sign  the  pledge  when  you 
go  in.  To  be  accounted  strictly  moral,"  continued 
Smith,  "  an  editor  must  be  blind  in  one  eye  and  astig 
matic  in  the  other.  Then  he  rings  the  bull's-eye  of 
Virtue  ten  times  out  of  ten,  and  the  clergy  bleats  with 
delight.  You  can't  find  spiritual  candor  anywhere  with 
a  telescope,  except  in  the  criminal  classes.  There  are 


1 68       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

no  Pharisees  there,  God  be  praised!  For  my  part,  I 
see  both  sides  of  every  question  that  was  ever  asked, 
and  usually  —  don't  you  think?  —  both  of  them  are 
right.  I  first  adopt  my  point  of  view  and  subsequently 
prove  it.  Obviously,  this  is  where  the  pickings  come  in. 
My  grandfather  started  this  paper  on  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars,  fifty  dollars  of  which,  I  have  heard,  was 
his  own.  I  could  knock  off  for  life  as  an  idle  member 
of  the  predatory  classes,  I  suppose,  but  after  all,  I  was 
made  for  an  editor.  In  years  past,  I  have,  of  course, 
had  my  offers  from  New  York.  Two  of  them  were 
left  open  forever,  and  a  little  while  ago,  I  telegraphed 
down  and  took  the  best.  A  grateful  wire  came  in  five 
minutes  ahead  of  you.  And  that,"  he  concluded 
wearily,  in  the  flattest  tones  of  a  curiously  flat  voice, 
"  is  the  life  story  of  C.  Smith,  editor,  up  to  the  hour  of 
going  to  press." 

Varney,  who  had  never  once  been  tempted  to  inter 
rupt  this  strange  apologia,  struggled  with  an  impulse 
to  feel  desperately  sorry  for  Mr.  Smith,  and  almost 
overcame  it. 

"  Smith,"  he  said,  in  a  moment,  "  why  don't  you  tell 
me  why  you  sold  ?  " 

The  editor  got  up  and  stared  out  of  the  window. 
Presently  he  turned,  an  odd  faint  flush  tingeing  his 
ordinarily  colorless  cheek.  His  air  of  smooth  cyni 
cism  was  gone,  for  once ;  and  Varney  saw  then,  as  he 
had  somehow  suspected  before,  that  the  editor  of  the 
Gazette  wore  polished  bravado  as  a  cloak  and  that 
underneath  it  he  carried  a  rather  troubled  soul. 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Smith,  "I  —  was  twigging 


VARNEY   MEETS   HIS   ENEMY          169 

you  again.  Let  us  say,"  he  added,  looking  at  Varney 
with  a  kind  of  shamefaced  defiance,  "  that  a  man  gets 
tired  of  living  on  pickings  after  a  while." 

If  he  had  been  ten  times  a  liar,  ten  times  a  slanderer 
and  assassin  of  character,  a  man  would  have  known 
that  the  young  editor  spoke  the  truth  then.  That 
knowledge  disarmed  Varney.  To  have  sold  the 
Gazette  to  one  who  would  prostitute  it  still  further  was 
hardly  a  noble  act;  but  for  Smith  it  meant  unmis 
takably  that  he  wanted  to  cut  loose  from  the  old  evil 
walks  where  he  had  done  ill  by  his  honor  and  battened 
exceedingly. 

"  All  along,"  said  Varney  slowly,  "  I  have  had  a 
kind  of  sneaking  feeling  that  there  was  a  spark  left 
in  you  yet." 

He  picked  up  his  hat  and  stick  again,  and  faced  the 
pale  young  editor. 

"  Smith,  you  have  done  me  a  devilish  wrong.  You 
have  knowingly  printed  a  vile  slander  about  me,  aware 
that  the  natural  result  of  your  falsehood  was  that  some 
poor  drunken  fool  would  shoot  me  down  from  behind. 
When  I  walked  in  here  five  minutes  ago,  I  had  two 
purposes  in  mind.  One  was  to  buy  your  paper.  The 
other  was  to  throw  you  down  the  front  stairs.  I  am 
leaving  now  without  doing  either.  I  abandoned  the 
first  because  I  had  to ;  I  abandon  the  second,  voluntarily, 
because  —  I  don't  quite  know  why  —  but  I  think  it 
is  because  it  seems  inappropriate  to  hit  a  man  when  he 
is  down  and  something  is  just  driving  him  to  try  to 
scramble  up." 

He  put  on  his  hat  and  started  to  go;  but  Smith 


170       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

stopped  him  with  a  gesture.  He  let  his  eye,  from 
which  all  sign  of  emotion  had  faded,  run  slowly  over 
Varney's  slender  figure. 

"  I  was  n't  such  a  slouch  in  my  younger  days,"  he 
said.  "  Football  at  my  prep  school,  football  and 
crew  at  my  college.  Boxed  some  at  odd  moments ;  was 
counted  fair  to  middling.  Some  offhand  practice  since 
with  people  I  've  roasted  —  agents,  actors,  and  the  like. 
As  to  that  throwing  downstairs  proposition  now,  if 
you  'd  care  to  try  it  on  — " 

Varney  shook  his  head.  "  I  don't  know  that  I  can 
explain  it  —  and  no  one  regrets  it  more  than  I  —  but 
all  the  wish  to  smash  you,  Smith,  has  gone  away  some 
where.  The  bottom  has  dropped  out  of  it.  Good 
bye." 

"  You  are  going?  So  am  I,"  said  Smith,  with  a  fair 
imitation  of  his  usual  lightness.  "  Going  away  for 
good.  I  hope  you  will  come  through  this  all  right. 
I'll  never  see  you  again.  Shake  hands,  will  you? 
You  could  n't  knowr  it,  of  course,  but  —  it  —  is  possi 
ble  that  I  owe  something  to  —  you  two  fellows." 

He  stood  motionless,  half  turned  away,  thin  hands 
hanging  loosely  at  his  sides. 

Varney.  who  had  colored  slightly,  took  a  last  look 
at  him.  "  No,"  he  said,  suddenly  much  embarrassed, 
"I  —  I  'm  afraid  I  could  n't  do  it  in  the  way  you 
mean,  and  so  there  would  n't  be  any  point  in  it.  But 
I  —  I  do  wish  you  luck  with  all  my  heart." 

He  shut  the  door,  and  started  down  the  stairway; 
and  he  straightway  forgot  Smith  in  the  returning  tide 
of  his  own  difficulties.  He  saw  clearly  that  there  was 


VARNEY   MEETS   HIS   ENEMY  171 

no  longer  any  hope;  his  plans  were  wrecked  past 
mending.  Persuading  Miss  Carstairs  to  keep  her 
engagement  to-morrow,  his  one  great  problem  this 
morning,  had  become  an  unimportant  detail  now. 
Charlie  Hammerton,  with  his  merciless  knowledge, 
rilled  the  whole  horizon  like  a  menacing  mirage. 

It  would  not  be  enough  to  close  the  boy's  mouth 
till  after  the  luncheon  and  then  let  it  open  to  babble. 
For  Elbert  Carstairs  had  flatly  drawn  the  line  at  a 
yellow  aftermath  of  sensation.  He  would  count  a 
tall-typed  scandal  the  day  after  to-morrow,  when  his 
daughter  was  with  him,  fully  as  bad  as  the  same  afflic 
tion  now.  And,  the  newspaper  finally  lost  to  them, 
there  was  no  conceivable  way  in  which  that  scandal 
could  be  averted  now. 

But  about  the  moment  when  his  foot  hit  the  bottom 
of  the  worn  stairs,  the  door  at  the  head  of  them  burst 
open,  and  a  curiously  stirred  voice,  which  he  had  some 
difficulty  in  recognizing  as  Smith's,  called  his  name. 

"  Varney  !  oh,  Varney  !  I  —  really  meant  to  tell  you 
—  and  then  I  forgot." 

He  turned  and  saw  the  editor's  pale  face  hanging 
over  the  banisters. 

"  It  was  Maginnis  I  sold  the  Gazette  to,  you  know 
-  Peter  Maginnis.  I  would  n't  have  sold  it  to  any 
body  else.  You  '11  find  him  at  the  hotel  eating  supper." 

Varney,  looking  at  him,  knew  then  what  it  was  that 
Smith  thought  he  owed  to  him  and  Maginnis. 

He  went  back  up  the  stairs  and  the  two  men  shook 
hands  in  rather  an  agitated  silence. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

CONFERENCE   BETWEEN    MR.    HACKLEY,   THE   DOG    MAN, 
AND    MR.    RYAN,    THE    BOSS 

At  half  past  six  o'clock,  or  thereabouts,  James 
Hackley  dragged  slowly  up  Main  Street.  He  was 
garbed  in  his  working  suit  of  denim  blue,  trimmed  with 
monkey  wrench  and  chisel,  and  he  wore,  further,  an 
air  of  exaggerated  fatigue.  A  rounded  protuberance 
upon  his  cheek  indicated  that  the  exhilaration  of  the 
quid  was  not  wanting  to  his  inner  man,  but  the  solace 
he  drew  from  it  appeared  pitifully  trilling.  Now 
and  then  he  would  pause,  rest  his  person  against  a 
lamp-post,  or  the  front  of  some  emporium,  and  shake 
his  head  despondently,  like  one  most  fearful  of  the 
consequences  of  certain  matters. 

Since  four  o'clock  that  afternoon,  in  fact,  Mr.  Hack- 
ley  had  been  out  upon  a  reluctant  stint  of  lawn-mowing, 
reluctant  because  he  hated  all  work  with  a  Titanic 
hatred  and  sedulously  cultivated  the  conviction  that 
his  was  a  delicate  health.  In  view  of  the  magnificent 
windfall  in  connection  with  the  killing  of  his  dog,  it 
had  not  been  his  design  to  accept  any  more  retainers 
for  a  long  time  to  come.  That  occurrence  had  lifted 
him,  as  by  the  ears,  from  the  proletariat  into  the  capi 
talistic  leisure  class:  and  the  map  of  the  world  had 
become  but  the  portrait  of  his  oyster. 


MR.   HACKLEY   AND    MR.   RYAN        173 

But  at  noon  as  he  lolled  upon  his  rear  veranda, 
chatting  kindly  with  his  wife  as  she  hung  the  linen  of 
quality  upon  her  drying  lines,  a  lady  had  knocked  upon 
his  door,  beautiful  and  insistent,  to  wheedle  his  will 
from  him.  It  was  only  a  tiny  bit  of  a  lawn,  she  had 
reiterated  imploringly,  hardly  a  constitutional  to  cut, 
and  there  was  not  one  tall  fellow  in  all  Hunston 
whom  she  would  permit  to  touch  it  but  Hackley.  Dead 
to  all  flattery  as  he  was,  his  backbone  ran  to  water  at 
the  clinging  beauty  of  her  smile,  and  so  incredibly 
betrayed  him  into  yielding.  And  now,  at  hard  upon 
half  after  six  o'clock,  post-meridian,  the  dangerous 
dews  of  night  already  beginning  to  fall,  he  leaned 
against  a  lamp-post,  a  physical  wreck,  with  a  long 
block  and  a  half  still  separating  him  from  the  com 
forts  of  home. 

At  the  next  corner  but  one  above  rose  the  red  brick 
Ottoman,  its  inviting  side  stretching  for  many  yards 
down  the  street  towards  him.  Windows  cut  it  here  and 
there  along  its  length,  and  over  their  green  silk  half- 
curtains,  poured  forth  a  golden  light  which  was  hospi 
tality  made  visible.  Yet,  so  strange  are  the  ways  of 
life,  the  proprietor  of  all  these  luxuries,  who  stood  at 
the  furthest  window,  beyond  Hackley's  range,  did  not 
look  happy  in  their  possession.  His  eyes  gleamed 
fiercely ;  his  heavy  chin  protruded  savagely,  as  though 
deliberately  insulting  Main  Street  and  the  northward 
universe.  Even  his  small  derby,  which  he  seldom 
doffed  save  at  the  hour  for  taps,  contrived  to  bespeak 
a  certain  ferocity. 

The  Ottoman  bar  was  bare  of  customers,  all  Hun- 


174       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

ston  now  verging  towards  its  evening  meal.  Ryan 
rested  his  elbow  upon  its  polished  surface,  and  glared 
into  the  twilight.  He  was,  as  luck  had  it,  in  a  terrible 
ill-humor.  For  he  knew  himself  to-day  for  a  man  who 
had  been  physically  flouted,  a  boss  whose  supremacy 
had  been  violently  assailed,  a  king  who  felt  his  throne 
careen  sickeningly  beneath  him. 

Last  night,  when  four  men  whom  he  had  never  seen 
before,  three  of  them  masked,  had  borne  him  off  on  a 
long  wild  drive,  and  dropped  him  at  ten  o'clock  in  a 
lonely  bit  of  country  eight  miles  from  the  Academy 
Theatre,  there  had  at  least  been  action  to  give  point  to 
his  choler.  All  but  out  of  his  mind  with  passion,  he 
had  besought  them  all,  singly  or  quadruply,  to  descend 
from  their  carriage  and  meet  him  in  combat,  thirsting 
sorely  to  kill  or  be  killed.  But  they  had  only  laughed 
at  him,  silently,  and  galloped  away,  leaving  him  scream 
ing  out  futile  curses  on  the  empty  night  air. 

Two  hours  later,  when  he  had  got  back  to  Hunston, 
after  an  interminable  nightmare  of  running  over  rough 
ground  with  unaccustomed  limbs,  and  stumbling  heavily 
to  earth,  and  rising  up  to  struggle  again,  he  had  learned 
to  what  uses  his  enemies  had  put  that  absence.  Smith 
had  related  the  story  in  the  fastness  of  his  office,  and  in 
wholly  different  guise  from  that  which  it  wore  next 
morning  in  the  columns  of  his  newspaper.  And  Ryan, 
listening,  had  slowly  calmed,  calmed  to  the  still  fury 
of  implacable  hate. 

But  he  and  Smith  had  quarreled  violently.  He  was 
for  publishing  the  story  of  his  taking  off  in  type  as 
black  as  the  dastardly  act.  Smith  had  a  difficult  time 


MR.    HACKLEY   AND    MR.    RYAN        175 

in  holding  him  down,  however  much  he  pointed  out 
that  Ryan  had  no  shadow  of  proof  against  his  new 
adversary  on  the  yacht,  and  that  public  sympathy  in  an 
affair  of  this  sort  was  always  with  the  successful.  In 
the  end  Smith  had  carried  his  point,  because  he  was, 
of  those  two  men,  both  the  more  wise  and  the  more 
resolute.  But  this  morning  they  had  conferred  again 
and  quarreled  even  more  bitterly. 

Yet  Ryan,  plotting  in  the  window  of  his  splendid 
gin-palace,  his  eye  always  sweeping  the  evening  street 
as  though  a-search,  was  not  thinking  of  the  young 
editor  now.  Two  other  policies  for  the  days  to  come 
monopolized  his  attention.  One  of  these  was  crushing 
victory  at  the  polls.  The  other  was  revenge.  Probably 
in  thinking  of  these,  he  put  them  at  the  moment  in  re 
verse  order. 

"Damn  him!"  he  suddenly  exploded:  and  it  was 
not  little  Plare  that  he  cursed.  "Damn  his  soul!" 

In  the  next  breath,  the  boss  suddenly  ducked,  and 
disappeared  from  the  half-curtained  window  altogether. 
A  moment  later,  he  appeared  outside  his  swinging  door, 
yawning  and  stretching  himself,  as  one  who,  wearied 
with  the  tedium  of  life  indoors,  would  see  what  beguile- 
ment  might  await  him  abroad. 

The  boss  looked  first  up  the  street  and  permitted  his 
beady  eye  to  range  casually  over  the  view.  Then  his 
gaze  came  slowly  down  and  rested  in  time  upon  the 
person  of  James  Hackley,  now  almost  directly  opposite. 
The  boss's  countenance  lit  up  with  a  smile  of  pleased 
surprise. 

"Why,  hello,  Jim!"  he  called  out.     "Where  you 


176       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

been  hidin'  yourself  lately?  Ain't  seen  you  for  a 
week  o'  Sundays.  Come  across  and  pass  the  time  of 
day!" 

Mr.  Hackley,  who  had  been  debating  whether  or 
not  he  should  pause  for  inspiration  at  the  Ottoman, 
and  had  just  virtuously  declared  for  the  negative, 
shambled  over. 

Ryan  eyed  him  sympathetically.  "  You  look  kind 
o'  played  out,  Jim.  What  you  been  doin'  with  your 
self  ?  Come  in  and  take  a  drop  of  somethin'  to  hearten 
you  up  some.  On  the  house." 

"  Well,"  said  Mr.  Hackley,  unable  to  resist  the 
novel  fascination  of  liquoring  gratis,  "  just  a  weeny 
mite  for  to  cut  the  dust  out  o'  my  windpipe." 

Ryan  went  behind  the  bar  and  served  them  himself, 
selecting  with  care  a  bottle  which  he  described  as  the 
primest  stuff  in  the  house.  From  this  he  poured 
Hackley  a  remarkably  stiff  potation,  slightly  wetting 
the  bottom  of  his  own  glass  the  while.  The  bottle  he 
left  standing  ready  on  the  bar. 

"  Here  's  how,  friend  Jim !  " 

Whatever  Mr.  Hackley's  foibles,  he  was  a  man  at  his 
cups.  His  platform  was  the  straight  article  uncon- 
taminated  by  ice  or  flabby  sparkling-water ;  and  chasers 
and  the  like  of  those  he  left  to  schoolboys. 

"  Ain't  took  a  drink  for  days,"  he  said,  holding  up 
his  glass  to  the  electric  light  and  squinting  through  it. 
"  Cut  it  out  religious,  I  have.  Been  settin'  around  the 
house,  an'  settin',  under  physic'an's  orders,  tryin'  fer 
to  get  my  health  back  so  's  I  could  go  to  moldin'  agin. 
But  Lordamussy,  what's  the  use  of  torkin' !  I  ain't 


MR.   HACKLEY   AND    MR.    RYAN        177 

no  more  fitten  fer  work  than  a  noo-born  baby.     Well, 
here  's  luck,  Ryan !  " 

He  set  his  glass  down  and  involuntarily  smacked  his 
lips.  The  fiery  liquid  percolated  through  him  down  to 
his  very  toes.  He  felt  better  at  once,  more  ambitious, 
less  conscious  of  his  constitution.  And  simultaneously, 
he  lost  something  of  that  indolent  good-nature  which 
was  the  badge  of  all  his  sober  hours. 

Ryan  regarded  him  with  friendly  anxiety.     "  You 
gotter  be  more  careful  with  yourself,  honest !    Here  — 
strengthen  your  holt  a  little.     One  little  swrallow  ain't 
no  help  to  a  man  as  beat  out  as  you  are." 

"  As  yer  like,  Dennis,"  said  Mr.  Hackley,  listlessly. 
"  What  I  reely  need  is  a  good  long  rest,  like  in  a 
'orspittle." 

Kindly  Mr.  Ryan  filled  the  small  glass  almost  to  the 
brim ;  and  Hackley,  though  he  had  modestly  stipulated 
for  "  on'y  a  drap  "  tossed  it  all  off  thirstily  at  a  single 
practised  toss. 

"  That  '11  fix  you  up  nice.  But  ain't  I  glad,"  said 
his  host  with  a  sly  chuckle,  "  that  nobody  sees  you 
taking  these  drinks  on  the  quiet,  which  we  know  you 
need  bad  for  your  health." 

Mr.  Hackley  set  down  his  glass  again,  this  time  with 
something  of  a  bang.  "  How  's  that?  "  he  demanded 
suspiciously. 

Ryan  laughed  deprecatingly.  While  doing  so,  he 
manipulated  the  tall  dark  bottle  again. 

"Shuh!"  said  he.  "It's  only  the  boys'  fun,  of 
course.  Don't  you  mind  them,  Jim." 

"  What  're  you  drivin'  at  ?  "    asked  Hackley,  brist- 

12 


178       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

ling  a  bit.  "If  you  got  anything  worth  say  in'  to  me, 
spit  it  out  plain,  I  say." 

"Well,"  laughed  Ryan,  "if  some  of  the  boys  was 
to  see  you  in  here  putting  away  a  harmless  drink  or  so, 
o'  course  they  'd  say  that  you  was  gettin'  up  your  Dutch 
courage.  He,  he!  " 

"  Dutch  courage !  "  cried  Mr.  Hackley,  indignantly. 
"An'  wot  the  hell  fer?" 

"  Sh!  Not  so  loud,  Jim.  Why,  it 's  only  their  little 
joke,  o'  course.  They  'd  say  you  was  gettin'  up  your 
nerve  to  meet  them  two  friends  of  yours  from  New 
York!  Hey?  He,  he!" 

"  Wot  friends  ?  "  asked  Hackley  again,  hotly. 

Ryan  observed  the  mounting  color  on  the  other's 
cheek  and  brow,  and  his  eye,  which  was  like  a  small, 
glossy  shoe-button,  gleamed. 

"  Why,  that  'un  that  killed  that  dog  o'  yours,  and 
put  you  to  sleep  before  the  crowd,  and  that  'un  that 
sent  Mamie  Orrick  to  Gawd  knows  where.  But  shucks ! 
Drop  it,  Jim.  I  would  n't  have  allooded  to  it,  on'y  I 
thought  you  'd  see  the  fun  of  the  thing." 

It  takes  a  philosopher  to  perceive  humor  in  taunts 
at  his  own  personal  courage,  and  Mr.  Hackley,  with 
three  drinks  of  the  Ottoman's  choicest  beneath  his 
tattered  waistcoat,  was  not  that  kind  of  man  at  all. 

He  leaned  forward  against  the  bar  with  a  belliger 
ence  suggesting  that  he  wished  to  push  it  over,  pinning 
his  pleasant-spoken  host  to  the  wall,  and  pounded  the 
top  of  it  till  the  glasses  tingled. 

"  Fill  her  up  with  the  same !  "  he  ordered  loudly, 
looking  suddenly,  and  for  the  first  time,  very  much  like 


MR.    HACKLEY   AND   MR.   RYAN        179 

the  rough-looking  customer  who  had  tackled  Peter 
Maginnis  in  defense  of  his  dog.  "  An'  I  '11  have  you 
know,  Mister  Ryan  —  I  '11  have  you  know,  my  fine, 
big,  bouncin'  buck,  that  Jim  Hackley  ain't  afeared  of 
anythink  that  walks." 

Ryan  filled  her  up  again,  though  this  time  more 
conservatively.  He  was  a  keen  man  and  an  excel 
lent  judge  of  what  was  enough. 

"  Shuh !  Don't  /  know  that,  Jim !  Why,  after  that 
big  bloke  licked  the  stuffin'  out  of  you  the  other  night, 
the  boys  said :  'Well,  that 's  the  last  o'  that  little  differ- 
culty !  Jim  Hackley  '11  never  f  oiler  that  up  none,'  they 
says.  And  what  'd  I  say?  " 

"Well,  what'd  yousay?" 

"  I  says,  '  Hell ! '  I  says.  '  You  boys  don't  knoiv 
Jim  Hackley!'" 

"  I  '11  interdooce  myself  to  'em !  "  said  Hackley  sav 
agely.  "  And  whoever  says  that  Maginnis  licked  me  's 
a  liar.  You  hear  me?  Tripped  my  toe  on  a  rock,  I 
did,  and  banged  all  the  sense  outen  my  head  - 

"  I  understand,  Jim,"  interrupted  Ryan  suavely. 
"  Just  what  I  told  the  boys.  O'  course,  just  between 
you  an  me,  I  have  been  kinder  took  by  surprise  that 
you  've  waited  so  long  to  get  your  evens.  Why,  this 
morning  when  the  piece  came  out  in  the  Gazette, 
tellin'  the  whole  town  that  the  feller's  side-partner 
was  that  yellow  cur-dog  Stanhope,  I  says  to  the  boys, 
first  thing:  'Boys,  we  gotter  watch  Jim  Hackley 
mighty  careful  to-day,'  says  I.  '  I  'm  afeard  there  '11 
be  gun-play  before  sunset.'  'Gun-play!'  says  they. 
'  F'om  Hackley !  Hell,'  says  they.  '  You  boys,'  says 


i8o        CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

I,  'don't  know  old  Jim  like  I  do!'  And  then  o' 
course,  —  he,  he !  —  as  the  whole  day  slipped  by  and 
nothin'  doin'  at  all  —  why,  o'  course,  I  won't  deny 
that  they  ain't  been  jollyin'  me  some." 

Hackley  leaned  far  over  the  bar,  and  shook  his 
fist  in  the  boss's  face.  "  I  ain't  a  man,"  he  shouted, 
"  to  be  pushed  an'  a-nagged  at  in  a  deal  like  this.  I 
takes  my  time,  I  makes  my  plans,  I  decides  on  the 
ways  I  '11  do  it.  Do  yer  pipe  to  that  ?  An'  now  I  've 
got  ever'think  fixed  and  I  'm  ready.  Do  yer  see !  " 

The  boss,  who  had  retreated  a  step  before  that  men 
acing  fist,  glanced  out  of  the  window  and  instantly 
started,  this  time  with  an  amazement  that  was  genuine. 

"  Why,  blast  my  eyes,"  he  cried,  raising  a  pudgy 
arm,  "  if  there  ain't  that  dog  Stanhope  now !  " 

Hackley,  following  the  pointing  finger,  peered  over 
the  green  silk  curtain  out  into  the  darkening  street. 
A  young  man,  tall  and  rather  thin,  in  a  blue  suit  and 
wide  gray-felt  hat,  was  walking  slowly  and  with  a 
slight  limp  up  the  cross  street,  evidently  heading  for 
the  Palace  Hotel. 

The  two  men  watched  him  intently,  in  a  moment  of 
perfect  silence.  Then  the  boss,  who  was  not  without 
a  certain  dramatic  sense,  said  slowly : 

"  Mamie  Orrick's  old  friend!  " 

A  baleful  light  leaped  into  Hackley'' s  eyes.  He 
broke  away  from  the  bar  with  a  movement  that  was 
like  a  wrench,  and  started  for  the  door. 

"  I  '11  fix  him,"  he  muttered  dourly.  "  Fix  him 
good." 

But  Ryan,  who  wanted  something  much  better  than 


MR.   HACKLEY   AND    MR.   RYAN        181 

that,  sprang  around  the  bar  like  lightning,  and  caught 
Hackley  roughly  by  the  shoulder,  at  the  door. 

"What,  here  in  the  square!"  he  hissed  sharply. 
"  With  the  po-lice  in  sight  a'most !  Why,  you  fool, 
it  '11  mean  the  pen  for  you  as  sure  as  your  name  's 
Jim  Hackley!" 

Hackley  paused,  his  resolution  unsettled  by  the 
other's  superior  knowledge  of  the  law. 

"  No,  no,  Jim  —  it  won't  do,"  went  on  Ryan  with 
bland  decisiveness.  "  What  you  want  is  the  two  of 
them  together,  hey  ?  —  on  a  nice  dark  stretch  o'  road, 
and  old  Orrick  and  a  few  good  fellows  along  to  help. 
You  ain't  the  only  one  that 's  got  it  in  for  Stanhope, 
are  you?  An'  you  want  Maginnis  too,  I  guess? 
Come  on  in  the  orfice  and  talk  about  it  over  a  seegar." 


CHAPTER    XV 

IN    WHICH    VARNEY    DOES    NOT    PAY    A    VISIT,    BUT 
RECEIVES    ONE 

Coligny  Smith  had  told  the  truth.  Peter  Maginnis 
had  bought  the  Gazette,  and  the  Cipriani's  troubles, 
from  this  source  at  any  rate,  were  at  an  end. 

Varney  found  the  new  proprietor  at  the  hotel,  com 
pleting  a  hurried  supper,  and  Peter  hailed  him  with 
astonishment  and  delight.  All  afternoon  he  had  been 
bursting  with  his  great  news,  eager  to  get  word  of  it 
to  Varney  on  the  yacht.  But  there  had  been  no 
trustworthy  messenger  -to  send ;  his  own  time  had  been 
filled  to  overflowing,  with  contracts,  bills  of  sale  and 
deeds;  and,  besides,  his  certain  knowledge  that  every 
thing  was  all  right  made  it  seem  a  minor  matter  that 
Varney  should  know  it  too. 

"  But  what  the  deuce,"  he  exclaimed  at  once, 
"  brings  you  at  this  hour  to  the  Palace  Hotel  and 
Restaurant?  " 

"  I,  too,"  quoted  Varney,  "  have  not  been  idle." 

As  they  walked  back  to  the  Gazette  building,  where 
Peter  had  still  various  details  to  attend  to,  he  gave  a 
terse  epitome  of  his  afternoon's  experiences.  At  the 
news  that  he,  too,  had  sought  to  buy  the  paper  which 
was  so  determinedly  on  their  trail,  Peter  chuckled  and 
started  to  speak ;  but  when  he  learned  in  the  next 


VARNEY   RECEIVES   A   VISIT  183 

sentence  that  Hammerton  had  their  secret  at  his  mercy, 
his  face  grew  suddenly  grave. 

"  The  rub  is,"  he  summed  up  meditatively,  "  he 
may  take  his  walking-papers  rather  than  let  go  of  such 
a  scoop  as  that.  Of  course,  he  knows  that  the  New 
York  papers  would  trample  each  other  to  death  trying 
to  snatch  it  away  from  him.  However,  we  can  fix  it 
somehow.  We  've  got  to  —  that 's  all." 

"  He  '11  listen  to  reason,  I  dare  say,"  said  Varney 
briefly.  "  What  put  it  into  your  head  to  try  to  buy 
the  paper,  Peter?  " 

They  sat  in  the  business  manager's  little  office  at 
the  rear  of  the  long  counting-room  downstairs,  where 
Peter  had  thoughtfully  paused  and  snapped  on  all  the 
lights.  At  this  question  an  annoyed  look  settled 
instantly  on  the  new  owner's  open  countenance. 

"  No  brains  of  mine,"  he  said  shortly.  "  It 's  a 
queer  thing." 

He  paused  to  light  his  battered  pipe,  which  he  pro 
duced  ready-filled  from  his  pocket,  and  then  said 
abruptly : 

"  Remember  that  old  sneak  named  Higginson  I  men 
tioned  to  you  yesterday?  Well,  I  bagged  the  idea 
from  him.  When  I  hit  town  this  afternoon  the  first 
thing  I  heard  was  that  Higginson  was  going  to  buy 
the  Gazette  —  had  bought  it,  some  said." 

"  Higginson!  "  Varney  stared.  "  What  the  mis 
chief  did  he  want  \vith  the  Gazette? ' 

"  Echo  answers.  No  good  to  us,  you  can  bet,"  said 
Peter  grimly.  "  Gave  it  out,  I  believe,  that  he  was 
acting  for  a  syndicate  of  New  Yorkers  who  expected 


184       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

flush  times  with  the  change  of  administration,  and 
were  rushing  to  get  in  on  the  ground  floor.  You  can 
believe  that  if  you  want  to.  To  me  it  sounds  too  fishy 
to  do  even  a  beginner  credit.  You  could  wake  me  up 
in  the  middle  of  the  night  and  I  could  put  over  a 
better  one  than  that.  However,"  he  continued,  frown 
ing,  "  to  get  back  to  my  story.  When  I  heard  what 
Higginson  was  up  to,  it  naturally  flashed  into  my 
mind  that  it  would  be  a  mighty  convenient  thing  if  I 
owned  the  Gazette  myself,  instead  of  him.  I  raced  off 
to  Smith  on  the  chance,  shot  an  offer  at  him  from  the 
door  and  to  my  surprise  he  accepted  it  —  right  off  the 
bat,  cool  as  though  the  deal  were  for  half  a  dozen 
copies  of  yesterday's  issue  —  " 

"  You  got  in  ahead  of  Higginson,  then  ?  " 

"  On  the  contrary,"  said  Peter.  "  And  that 's  an 
other  queer  thing  —  about  Smith,  I  mean.  Higginson 
had  been  in  and  made  him  an  offer  an  hour  ahead  of 
me,  and  the  fellow  had  turned  him  down  flat.  Yet  I 
happen  to  know  that  the  price  I  offered  was  under 
Higginson's  by  a  pretty  good  year's  income.  Now 
what  d'you  think  of  that?" 

Varney  was  silent  a  moment.  "  Smith  wants  a  new 
deal  all  around,  I  imagine,"  he  said  slowly.  "  He 
knew  that  you  would  make  the  Gazette  an  honest 
paper;  he  did  n't  know  anything  of  the  sort  about  the 
other  man.  Probably  he  knew  just  the  contrary. 
Bully  for  Smith,  I  say!  But  what  do  you  make  of 
this  chap  Higginson  ?  " 

"  Search  me,"  said  Peter,  rather  impatiently.  "  He  's 
clearly  imported  by  Ryan  for  some  definite  purpose, 


VARNEY  RECEIVES  A   VISIT  185 

but  just  what  his  game  is  beats  me.  There  '11  be  more 
developments,  of  course.  After  I  'd  signed  up  with 
Smith  I  spent  half  an  hour  of  valuable  time  looking 
for  the  rascal,  but  could  n't  find  a  footprint  anywhere. 
He  seems  to  have  a  special  gift  for  appearing  and  dis 
appearing.  If  he  decides  to  stay  with  us,  though,  he  '11 
explain  himself  to  me  to-morrow,  or  I  '11  know  the 
reason  why." 

"  Well,  you  've  already  pulled  his  teeth,  have  n't 
you?  This  little  purchase  of  yours  knocks  the  wind 
out  of  his  sails  in  any  event." 

"  I  wish  I  could  be  sure  of  that." 

"  And,  by  the  way,  that  reminds  me.  Of  course 
I  'm  in  on  this,  you  understand  —  on  what  you  paid 
for  the  Gazette," 

"  Not  on  my  account,"  said  Peter  frankly.  "  When 
this  town  starts  booming,  as  it  will  in  eight  days  from 
date  —  Higginson  had  that  part  of  it  right,  anyway  - 
the  Gazette  's  going  to  be  the  prettiest  little  property 
you  ever  saw  in  your  life.  I  saw  it  first  and  you  will 
kindly  back  away  off  the  grass.  By  the  bye,"  he  went 
on,  "  the  lunch  to-morrow.  Hare  and  his  sister  both 
accepted  —  two  o'clock.  You  ought  to  have  seen 
Hare's  face  when  I  told  him  we  owned  this  little  old 
Gazette.  Worth  the  price  of  admission  alone  —  he  'd 
been  hot  as  a  stove  all  day  about  that  story  this 
morning.  I  asked  Mrs.  Marne  whether  Miss  Carstairs 
had  happened  to  say  anything  about  coming,  but  she 
had  n't  seen  her  to-day  at  all.  I  guess  there  won't  be 
any  trouble  in  that  quarter,  though,  when  she  gets 
through  reading  the  paper's  apologies  to-morrow." 


1 86       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Varney.  "  I  am  going  to  her 
house  to-night  to  find  out." 

"Why?"  said  Peter,  surprised.  "What  do  you 
think  we  bought  this  paper  for,  anyway?  " 

'  The  great  trouble  is  that  she  may  not  believe  the 
paper.  This  is  important,  you  see.  The  whole  thing 
hinges  on  whether  or  not  she  is  coming  to  lunch  with 
us.  The  only  way  I  can  be  certain  that  she  is  coming 
is  to  have  her  tell  me  so." 

Peter  jingled  his  keys.  "  Of  course,  we  don't  want 
to  take  chances,  but  - 

"  Another  thing,"  said  Varney.  "  She  promised  to 
lunch  with  Stanhope  —  the  celebrity  —  not  me,  you 
know." 

"  H'm,"  said  Peter  cogitatively,  and  added:  "I 
guess  you  're  right.  I  'm  sure  everything  's  all  serene, 
but  it  '11  do  no  harm  to  press  a  call.  Well !  I  must  fly 
upstairs  for  a  while  and  see  how  things  are  going." 

"What  about  the  Daily?" 

"  That 's  what  I  Ve  got  to  do  right  now  —  settle 
the  Daily  and  dictate  a  strong  Gazette  story  for  to 
morrow's  issue,  stripping  the  socks  off  the  Stanhope 
lie  and  all  that.  I  've  got  to  show  the  boys  upstairs 
exactly  how  we  want  the  whole  thing  handled." 

"  Fire  away,  old  top." 

"  It  's  all  sketched  out  in  my  mind,"  continued 
Peter,  rising.  "  Did  it  at  the  hotel  over  my  chuck- 
steak.  I  won't  be  long.  You  wait  here  for  me,  will 
you  ?  I  've  chartered  an  automobile  for  a  week  and 
I  '11  run  you  up  to  the  Carstairs  house  and  wait  outside 
till  you  're  ready  to  go  back  to  the  yacht." 


VARNEY   RECEIVES   A   VISIT  187 

"  Why  these  civilities,  my  son  ?  " 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  Peter,  a  little  reluctantly,  "  that 
story  this  morning  seems  to  have  pulled  open  a  lot 
of  old  sores,  just  as  it  was  meant  to.  Hare  's  picked  up 
some  loose  odds  and  ends  of  talk  about  town  to-day. 
I  noticed  two  men  hanging  around  here  as  we  came  in 
just  now  who  did  n't  look  right  to  me.  I  can't  get  it 
out  of  my  head  that  there  's  something  in  the  wind 
to-night,  and  Higginson  's  back  of  it.  Anyway,  there  's 
no  use  of  running  needless  risks,  now  that  we  've 
practically  got  a  strangle-hold  on  the  whole  propo 
sition." 

Varney  glanced  at  his  watch.  "  Right  for  you.  It 's 
too  early  to  call  yet,  anyway.  I  '11  wait." 

"  Correct,"  said  Peter  at  the  door.  "  One  last  item 
of  news.  Stanhope  himself,  the  real  one,  is  coming 
to-morrow." 

"Here  — to  stay?" 

Peter  nodded.  "  The  caretaker  of  his  cottage  told 
Hare  —  told  him  not  to  tell  a  soul.  But  I  don't 
believe  he  '11  stay  long.  The  fellow  's  clearly  a  fool 
as  well  as  a  dog." 

"  We  ought  to  warn  him  how  things  stand  here," 
said  Varney,  "  no  matter  what  kind  of  person  he  is. 
You  and  I  know  that  we  've  made  matters  a  good  deal 
worse  for  him." 

"  He  's  made  them  a  good  deal  worse  for  us,  also. 
But  I  '11  see  that  he  's  promptly  advised  to  leave  while 
the  leaving  's  good.  Back  in  an  hour  at  the  farthest." 

Peter  tramped  off  down  the  passageway,  banging 
the  front  door  behind  him ;  and  Varney  was  left  alone 


in  the  little  office  to  attend  his  return.  At  once  it 
came  to  him  that  this  was  exactly  what  he  had  been 
doing  ever  since  he  had  been  in  Hunston,  —  waiting 
for  Peter. 

"  I  am  the  greatest  waiter  that  the  human  race  has 
yet  produced,"  he  thought,  despondently,  and  dropping 
down  into  a  chair,  stared  long  at  the  shut  door. 

What  a  day  it  had  been!  —  beginning  with  cut-ami - 
dried  little  plans  that  seemed  sure,  running  off  in  the 
middle  into  black  depths  of  hopeless  complications, 
blossoming  suddenly  into  unlooked-for  triumph.  Yes, 
complete  triumph  at  last.  The  visit  that  he  meant  to 
pay  a  little  later  was  merely  an  added  precaution ;  lie 
felt  no  doubts  as  to  how  matters  would  turn  out  now. 
To-morrow,  the  Gazette,  Peter's  paper,  would  set  him 
square  before  all  Hunston,  and  Mary  Carstairs,  sorry 
for  the  wrong  she  had  done  him,  would  come  to 
the  yacht  as  she  had  engaged  to  do.  With  the  clair 
voyance  born  of  his  swift  revulsion  of  feeling,  lie 
knew  that  his  victory  wras  already  won.  Yet  he  did 
not  feel  now  as  a  conqueror  feels.  In  the  loneliness  of 
the  tight-shut  little  office,  he  confronted  the  knowledge 
that  he  did  not  think  of  Uncle  Elbert's  daughter  as  his 
enemy,  and  that  it  mattered  to  him  that  she  was  to  hate 
him  and  worse.  .  . 

Suddenly  in  the  entire  stillness,  he  heard  a  sound 
close  by,  and  straightened  up  sharply.  Some  one  was 
gently  trying  the  front  door.  He  felt  quite  sure  of  it. 
He  got  up  quickly  and  quietly,  and  hurried  down  the 
passageway  to  the  front;  but  there  was  nothing  to  be 
seen. 


VARNEY   RECEIVES   A   VISIT  189 

Outside,  the  street,  from  the  brilliantly-lighted 
room,  looked  inky  black.  He  stood  a  moment  listening 
intently.  He  thought  he  heard  footsteps  not  far  away, 
swiftly  receding,  but  he  could  not  be  sure.  Then  he 
remembered  the  men  that  Peter  had  seen  in  the  street 
a  little  while  before,  and  understood. 

Somebody  was  watching  him,  apparently  waiting 
for  a  chance.  Those  whom  Stanhope  had  wronged 
had  been  spurred  to  square  the  old  account,  and  the 
Gazette's  canard  had  not  been  undone  yet.  He 
yearned  to  dash  after  those  retreating  footsteps  and 
find  out  who  was  the  prudent  proprietor  of  them. 
But  even  to  stand  here  was  hardly  fair  to  Elbert 
Carstairs. 

"  How  can  I  go  sailing  to-morrow,"  he  said  aloud, 
musingly,  "if  I  'm  laid  up  in  a  hospital,  or  laid  out  in 
the  morgue  ?  " 

He  went  back  to  his  office,  shut  himself  in  again; 
and  with  the  closing  of  the  door  he  shut  out  all  thought 
of  the  enemies  of  Ferris  Stanhope.  Soon  his  mind 
broke  away  from  him,  and  went  galloping  off  to  the 
morrow.  Great  vividness  marked  the  pictures  that 
danced  before  the  eye  of  his  thought.  Now  the  lunch 
eon,  the  planned  and  fought  for,  was  over.  They 
were  there,  strung  out  gayly  along  deck,  —  Mrs. 
Marne,  Hare,  Peter,  Mary  Carstairs,  and  he.  Then, 
by  some  deft  stratagem,  the  others  were  gone  and  he 
was  sitting  alone  by  Mary  at  the  rail.  The  Cypriani 
was  slowly  moving,  as  though  for  a  ten-minute  spin 
down  the  river.  And  then,  as  she  gathered  headway, 
he  turned  suddenly  to  Mary  and  told  her  everything: 


1 90       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

how  he  had  deceived  and  tricked  her,  and  how  she 
would  not  go  back  to  Hunston  that  afternoon.  .  .  . 

It  might  have  been  ten  minutes  that  he  sat  like  this. 
It  might  have  been  half  an  hour.  But  after  a  time  he 
heard,  suddenly  and  distinctly,  that  noise  at  the  door 
again. 

There  was  the  less  doubt  about  it  this  time,  in  that 
the  shutting  of  the  door  was  now  clearly  audible,  and 
there  followed  the  distinct  sound  of  some  one  moving 
in  the  main  office.  Then  the  door  in  the  passageway 
swung  open  and  footsteps  pattered,  coming  nearer. 
The  light  firm  steps  drew  nearer,  halted;  and  there 
came  a  small  rap  upon  his  door 

"  Come  in,"  he  called  loudly,  encouragingly.  "  I  'm 
here,  all  right.  Come  in." 

The  door  opened,  a  little  slowly,  as  though  not  quite 
certain  whether  it  was  going  to  open  or  not,  and 
Mary  Carstairs  stood  upon  the  threshold,  silhouetted 
in  the  sudden  frame. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

WHEREIN    SEVERAL    LARGE    DIFFICULTIES    ARE 
SMOOTHED    AWAY 

He  had  sat  upright,  his  hands  over  his  chair-arms, 
his  mind  and  muscle  tense;  but  at  that  unbelievable 
sight,  he  fell  back  in  his  chair  relaxed,  staring  and 
dazed  like  one  who  sees  a  goddess  in  a  vision. 

"  Good  evening,"  said  this  goddess,  looking  decid 
edly  embarrassed  and  remarkably  pretty.  "I  —  I  am 
so  glad  that  we  've  found  you." 

"  You  were  looking  for  me?  "  he  said  incredulous, 
utterly  mystified ;  and  the  instinct  of  long  training, 
working  on  with  no  guidance  from  him,  impelled  him 
to  rise  with  a  stiff  and  somewhat  belated  bow. 

"  Yes.  And  there  are  two  men  with  me  who  are 
anxious  to  help.  .  .  ." 

Her  fragrant  presence  seemed  to  fill  and  transform 
the  dingy  office;  and  he  was  at  once  aware  that  her 
manner  had  lost  that  cool  remoteness  which  at  their 
last  meeting  had  set  him  so  far  away. 

He  pulled  himself  sharply  together,  entirely  missing 
the  implication  in  her  speech,  and  struck  abruptly  to 
the  one  point  that  mattered. 

"  Some  one  has  convinced  you  since  last  night  that 
I  am  not  that  man." 

"  Yes,"  she  answered,  looking  away  from  him  with 


192       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

faintly  heightened  color.  "I  —  I  must  ask  you  to 
forgive  me  for  —  last  night." 

He  bowed  stiffly  from  behind  the  table. 

"But  who  —  if  I  may  know  —  persuaded  you, 
where  I  appeared  so  — 

"  My  mother,"  she  said,  simply.  "  She  caught  a 
glimpse  of  you  on  the  street  yesterday.  I  did  not 
know  of  it  till  to-day  —  never  dreamed  that  she  knew 
you.  I  'm  glad,"  she  added  hurriedly,  resolutely  con 
trite,  "of  the  chance  to  —  to  say  this  —  " 

"  It  is  extraordinarily  kind,"  said  Varney.  He 
looked  at  her  steadily,  as  far  from  understanding  the 
mystery  of  her  coming  as  ever. 

"  But  I  came,"  she  went  on  at  once,  as  though  read 
ing  the  question  in  his  eyes,  "  for  quite  another  reason. 
We  happened  to  stop  just  now  at  poor  Jim  Hackley's." 

The  name  riveted  his  attention.  A  quality  in  her 
voice  had  already  told  him  that  something  troubled 
her. 

"At  Hackley's?" 

She  stood  just  behind  Peter's  deserted  chair  and 
rested  her  ungloved  right  hand  upon  it.  He  noticed, 
as  though  it  were  a  matter  which  was  going  to  be 
vital  to  him  later  on,  that  she  wore  no  rings,  and  that 
there  was  a  tiny  white  spot  on  the  nail  of  her  thumb. 

"  Some  men  are  waiting  on  this  dark  street  some 
where,  Mr.  Varney,"  she  began  hurriedly,  "  waiting, 
I  'm  afraid,  for  you  to  come  out  —  four  or  five  —  I 
don't  know  how  many.  You  know  —  what  that 
means.  But  oh,  it  isn't  their  fault!  —  they  don't 
know  any  better,  you  see !  — 


DIFFICULTIES   ARE    SMOOTHED   AWAY     193 

The  sudden  anxiety  in  her  voice  cleared  his  wits  and 
braced  him  like  a  tonic :  and  so  he  came  front  to  front 
with  the  fact  that  it  was  to  help  him  —  to  help  him  — 
that  Uncle  Elbert's  daughter  had  come  to  the  Gazette 
office  that  night. 

"  I  appreciate  that  perfectly,  of  course.  But  —  the 
rest  is  not  so  clear.  I  don't  quite  understand  —  how 
did  you  happen  to  learn  of  this  ?  " 

"I?  Oh,  my  learning  about  it  was  the  purest 
chance.  It  was  told  me  two  minutes  ago  by  a  visitor 
here,  a  Mr.  Higginson,  whom  I  met  last  night.  He  is 
outside  in  the  car  now,  and  —  " 

"Mr.  Higginson!"   echoed  Varney,  astounded. 

"  You  know  him,  perhaps  ?  " 

"  I  ?  Oh,  no  —  no.  But  I  interrupted  you.  Do  go 
on  and  tell  me  —  " 

She  began  to  speak  rapidly  and  earnestly: 

"  This  afternoon  I  went  motoring,  I  and  a  friend  of 
mine  —  Mr.  John  Richards.  We  took  a  wrong  turn 
coming  back,  and  of  course  were  horribly  late.  But 
at  the  edge  of  the  square  we  stopped  a  minute  to  in 
quire  about  Mrs.  Hackley,  who  was  taken  quite  ill  yes 
terday  afternoon.  Just  as  I  was  getting  back  into  the 
car,  up  ran  this  Mr.  Higginson,  very  much  flustered 
and  excited.  You  see,  he  had  just  found  out  about  all 
this  —  this  plot  —  even  to  knowing  where  you  were ; 
he  had  seen  poor  Jim  Hackley,  it  seems,  not  at  all  him 
self,  and  overheard  him  talking.  Of  course,  we  saw 
that  you  must  be  warned  at  once,  so  we  took  him  in 
the  car,  and  all  three  of  us  ran  back  here." 

She  paused  a  moment,  and  he  prompted  her  with  a 
close-clipped :  "  Yes  ?  "  13 


194       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  I  wanted  him  to  —  come  in  and  tell  you  about 
it,"  she  said  hesitatingly  —  "but  he  wouldn't  do  it. 
He  is  a  most  agreeable  old  man,  but,  I  imagine  —  of  a 
very  nervous  temperament.  So,"  she  added  with  a 
hurried  little  laugh,  "  as  I  was  the  only  one  who  - 
knew  you,  I  said  that  I  would  come  in  and  tell  you 
myself." 

"  It  was  most  kind  —  most  kind  of  you  all." 

He  turned  away  sharply  to  hide  his  sudden  rush 
of  indignation  and  resentment.  Turbulently  he  longed 
to  get  his  hands  upon  the  sly  Higginson,  who  had  had 
the  effrontery  to  dispatch  a  woman  to  protect  him, 
and  this  woman  of  all  others  that  lived  in  Hunston. 
.  .  .  Protect  him?  Hardly.  That  an  attack  had  been 
planned  against  his  person  was,  indeed,  likely  enough, 
but  not  that  any  hireling  of  Ryan's  should  rush  for 
ward  hysterically  to  pluck  him  from  his  peril.  What 
move  in  that  mysterious  game,  what  strange  plot 
within  a  plot  was  here  ?  .  .  . 

"  Did  Mr.  Higginson  happen  to  explain  why  he  took 
such  a  generous,  and  I  fear  very  troublesome,  interest 
in  my  welfare?  " 

Genuinely  anxious  for  light,  he  tried  to  iron  all  sug 
gestion  of  a  sneer  out  of  his  voice,  but  evidently  he  did 
not  quite  succeed. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  speak  that  way ! 
Surely  he  has  done  only  what  anybody  would  do  for 
any  stranger  w7ho  was  in  danger  and  did  n't  know  it." 

"And  you?" 

She  looked  at  him  rather  shyly  out  of  her  somewhat 
spectacular  eyes. 


DIFFICULTIES   ARE   SMOOTHED   AWAY     195 

"That  explains  me,  too  —  if  you  wish." 

"  Maginnis  and  I,"  said  Varney  immediately,  "  are 
not  going  out  for  some  time  yet.  Oh,  a  long,  long 
time!  These  poor  fellows  you  speak  of  will  tire  of 
waiting  long  before  that.  And  when  we  do  go  —  " 

"  You  must  not  go  together." 

"  I  don't  think  I  understand  you." 

"  Don't  you  see,"  she  said,  speaking  very  earnestly, 

"  that  that  is  exactly  what  they  are  hoping  for?    This 

ambuscade  did  n't  just  happen  —  it  is  manufactured 

-  it  is  politics.     Men  like  these  have  n't  the  initiative, 

or  whatever  you  call  it,  to  get  up  a  thing  of  this  sort. 

Some  one  has  done  it  for  them.    Don't  you  know  why  ? 

They  ivant  to  get  rid  of  Mr.  Maginnis.    But  they  can't 

hurt    him    alone  —  without   having   it   brought    right 

home  to  them  —  to  the  politicians.     With  you  —  it  is 

-different  —  " 

;<  Yes,  yes  —  I  see.  But  forgive  my  asking  —  did 
Mr.  Higginson  explain  the  situation  to  you  in  just  this 
way?" 

"Mr.  Higginson?"  she  said,  plainly  surprised  at 
his  harking  back  to  that.  "  It  was  not  necessary.  I 
understood  the  situation  very  well,  from  what  Mr. 
Hare  has  told  me.  Mr.  Higginson  simply  gave  us  the 
facts  about  these  men  hiding  out  there  —  there  was  no 
time  for  anything  more." 

He  was  staring  at  her  with  unconscious  steadiness, 
and  now  his  face  took  on  a  slow  faint  smile,  which 
she  was  very  far  from  understanding.  Blurry  as  it 
all  still  was,  light  was  beginning  to  break  through 
upon  him.  Of  course,  that  was  all  that  Mr.  Higgin- 


196        CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

son  had  told  her.  Of  course.  The  last  thing  desired 
by  that  clever  rogue,  who  used  petticoats  for  stalking- 
horses  and  was  not  above  hiding  behind  them  for  the 
safety  of  his  own  skin,  was  for  the  engineered  "  at 
tack  "  to  go  off  prematurely,  landing  only  Varney  and 
failing  to  "  get  "  Maginnis.  Warnings  that  the  two 
should  not  go  out  together  from  Higginson  ?  Hardly. 

"  I  understand  perfectly.  Maginnis  is  quite  safe 
without  me,  but  not  at  all  safe  with  me.  You  may 
count  upon  me  absolutely.  I  '11  give  him  the  slip  and 
leave  here  alone." 

"  You  must  n't  do  anything  of  the  kind,"  said  Mary 
sharply. 

She  looked  at  him,  unsmiling,  eye  to  eye  like  a  man ; 
but  she  looked  from  under  a  fantastic  and  exceedingly 
becoming  little  hat,  swathed  all  about  with  a  wholly 
fascinating  gray  veil.  Her  skin  was  of  an  exquisite 
freshness,  which  threw  into  sharp  relief  the  vivid  col 
oring  of  her  lips ;  the  modeling  of  her  cheek  and 
throat  was  consummate,  beyond  improvement ;  and 
her  eyes  —  he  told  himself  that  they  could  have  no 
match  anywhere. 

Varney  laughed  shortly.  "  I  am  not  to  go  out  with 
Maginnis.  I  am  not  to  go  out  without  him.  May  I 
ask  if  I  am  expected  to  spend  the  night  prudently 
curled  up  under  the  office-table  here?  " 

The  situation  was  odious  to  him;  he  knew  that  his 
manner  betrayed  it;  but  if  she  was  aware  of  this  she 
gave  no  sign.  On  the  contrary  her  face  all  at  once 
became  miraculously  sweet. 

"  You  are  n't  thinking  that  there  's  any  question  of 


DIFFICULTIES   ARE    SMOOTHED   AWAY     197 

courage  mixed  up  in  this,  Mr.  Varney?  Indeed,  in 
deed,  there  is  not.  They  would  fight  in  the  dark: 
they  would  fight  from  behind.  The  very  bravest  men 
would  have  no  chance,  and  very  brave  men  don't  take 
foolish  risks,  do  they?  I  know  by  Mr.  Hare.  Mr. 
Varney,  I  have  a  little  plan." 

''Indeed?    Do  tell  me." 

"  Our  car  is  at  the  door,  you  know  —  Mr.  Rich- 
ards's  car.  We  'd  both  like  it  very  much  if  you  would 
come  with  us." 

"Where?" 

"  Well  —  I  thought  that  perhaps  you  'd  come  to  my 
house.     Only  to  get  rid  of  these  men  and  not  to  — 
get  them  into  any  trouble.     Of  course,  no  one  in  Hun- 
ston  would  annoy  you  when  you  were  with  me." 

If  he  had  hated  the  thought  of  accepting  protection 
from  Mary  Carstairs  less  intensely,  he  might  have 
laughed  aloud.  As  Higginson's  catspaw,  she  was  cer 
tainly  the  most  screaming  failure  that  the  whole  world 
could  have  yielded.  What,  oh  what,  would  the  old 
gum-shoe  have  said  if  he  could  have  heard  that 
invitation  ? 

'  Thank  you,  but  that  is  quite  impossible." 

"  I  am  awfully  sorry." 

There  was  a  faint  stiffening  in  her  manner.  She 
began  to  draw  on  her  right  glove,  slowly  tucking  out 
of  sight  the  thumb  with  the  tiny  white  spot  on  the 
nail. 

"  I  hoped  that  perhaps  you  might  come  to  dinner 
with  us.  I  have  n't  had  any  yet.  May  I  —  suggest 
another  way  out  of  all  this,  then?  There  is  a  back 


1 98       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

gate  to  this  place,  leading  into  a  kind  of  alley,  you 
know.      I    am    sure   that    they  —  these    poor    men  — 
have  n't   thought  of   that.      Could  n't  you   please  go 
out  —  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Varney.  "  Certainly.  Yes,  in 
deed.  I  '11  do  anything  —  anything  in  the  wide  world 
to  avoid  getting  thumped  on  the  head  with  Mr.  Hack- 
ley's  walking-stick." 

Her  face  told  him  that  she  found  his  tone  and  man 
ner  somewhat  disconcerting,  but  she  took  no  notice  of 
it  otherwise. 

"  I  hope  it  won't  be  necessary  to  do  anything  more 
than  that.  But  if  it  should  be,  I  hope  you  '11  do  it. 
I  'm  afraid  I  've  failed  to  make  you  see  that  this  is 
really  serious.  Good-night." 

But  Varney,  having  a  question  to  ask  her,  could  not 
let  her  go  yet. 

"  But  —  but,"  he  said,  hastily,  "  you  must  allow  me 
to  thank  you  —  you  and  Mr.  Higginson  —  " 

"  The  thanks  are  all  Mr.  Higginson's.  I  'm  only  a 
messenger  —  and  besides,  you  are  n't  grateful  at  all, 
you  know !  You  think  we  've  all  been  extremely  intru 
sive!  "  She  smiled  brightly,  bowed,  and  then  was  sud 
denly  checked  by  a  new  thought.  "  Oh  —  I  wonder 
if  you  would  tell  me  something  before  I  go?" 

"  By  all  means,"  said  Varney,  having  no  idea 
whether  he  would  or  not. 

But  the  loud  jangling  whir  of  a  telephone  bell  from 
the  adjoining  room  cut  into  the  air,  drowning  out  con 
versation  ;  and  it  rang  on  and  on  and  on  as  though 
Central  had  had  her  orders. 


DIFFICULTIES   ARE    SMOOTHED   AWAY     199 

"  I  suppose  I  '11  have  to  answer  that  to  shut  them 
up,"  he  said.  "  Excuse  me  for  the  merest  second, 
won't  you?  " 

He  passed  through  into  the  brightly-lit  business 
office  beyond,  and  found  the  telephone,  still  ringing 
away  on  a  desk  at  the  farther  end.  Behind  him  the 
door  swung  shut,  a  circumstance  for  which  he  later 
had  reason  to  be  glad. 

"Well?"    he  called  impatiently. 

"You,  Larry?"    asked  a  familiar  voice. 

"  Yes.     What 's  the  matter?  " 

"  Matter  enough,"  said  Peter  in  a  guarded  under 
tone.  "  Hammer  ton  's  loose." 

"What!" 

"  It 's  a  fact.  God  knows  how  he  did  it;  but  he  's 
just  phoned  in  here  from  a  house  a  long  way  down  the 
road.  Wanted  to  let  the  city  editor  know  he  was  fly 
ing  in  with  the  one  best  bet  of  the  year.  Luckily  he 
gave  no  details." 

Varney's  lips  tightened ;  he  spoke  in  a  low  voice. 
"  He  must  n't  arrive  —  not  till  I  've  seen  him  first. 
Did  you  find  out  how  he  's  coming  —  river  or  road?  " 

"  Trust  Uncle  Dudley.  He  's  borrowed  a  bicycle  and 
is  burning  up  the  River  road  with  it." 

"  Good.     How  soon  will  you  be  through?  " 

"  About  three  minutes." 

"  You  've  hired  a  motor,  you  said  ?  Get  it  and  run 
back  here  as  soon  as  you  can,  will  you?  " 

He  rapidly  explained  the  situation,  though  making 
no  mention  of  Higginson :  how  somebody  had  plotted 
to  get  them  together  in  the  darkness  of  Main  Street, 


200       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

how  Miss  Carstairs  and  her  friend  had  kindly  stopped 
to  warn  them,  and  how  he  had  humored  her  by  prom 
ising  to  take  all  sorts  of  precautions. 

"  Right-O,"  said  Peter.  "  I  '11  be  in  the  alley  at 
the  back  in  no  time.  Come  quick  when  I  honk  three 
times." 

Varney  came  back  into  the  little  office  where  Mary 
Carstairs  waited,  fresh  from  more  cheap  plotting  in 
which  she  was  the  innocent  central  figure;  and  faced 
her,  uncomfortable,  ill  at  ease,  disquieted  inwardly  as 
a  conspirator  taken  red-handed. 

"  It  was  Maginnis  —  upstairs,"  he  explained  awk 
wardly. 

"  Yes  ?  "  she  said  indifferently,  and  resumed  the 
buttoning  of  her  glove.  "  And  will  you  tell  me  some 
thing  now?  It  has  been  on  my  mind  since  last  night." 

"  Certainly." 

"  Who  was  it  that  spoke  of  me  to  you  and  made 
you  think  that  I  was  a  little  girl?  " 

He  was  entirely  taken  aback  by  the  question ;  but 
he  could  have  parried  it  easily,  and  he  knew  it.  How 
ever,  he  was  heartily  sick  of  subterfuge  for  that  night. 

"  It  was  your  father,"  he  said  bluntly. 

"My  father!"  She  stood  silent  a  moment,  slim 
hands  interlocked  before  her,  heavily  fringed  eyes 
lowered.  "  So  you  know  them  both  —  my  mother  and 
my  father.  Then  —  the  mistake  —  about  my  age," 
she  added  with  something  of  an  effort,  "  was  natural 
enough.  I  have  not  seen  my  father  for  many  years." 

"  I  see  him,"  said  he,  "  constantly.  Your  father  and 
I  are  great  chums."  A  sudden  insane  hope  over- 


DIFFICULTIES   ARE   SMOOTHED   AWAY     201 

whelmed  him,  and  he  went  on  with  a  rush :  "  You 
kno\v,  or  rather  probably  you  don't  know,  that  he  and 
my  mother  were  old  friends ;  and  I  am  proud  to  have 
fallen  heir  to  the  friendship.  You  say  that  you  have 
not  seen  him  for  some  time?  He  is  growing  older 
very  fast  this  last  year  or  two ;  he  is  much  changed  of 
late.  And  then,  Miss  Carstairs,  he  is  desperately 
lonely,  all  by  himself  in  that  great  house  of  his  — '' 

"  Stop!  "  cried  Mary  Carstairs,  with  quick  passion- 
ateness.  "  Stop !  You  are  trying  to  make  me  feel 
sorry  for  my  father." 

"Well,"  he  said,  as  stormy  as  she,  "you  ought  to! 
But  your  friends  are  waiting.  I  must  not  detain  you 
any  longer." 

At  the  curtness  of  his  speech  a  very  faint  wave  of 
color  ran  up  her  cheek ;  and  when  he  saw  this  he  \vas 
sorry  and  glad  in  a  single  breath.  At  least,  she  could 
not  say  afterwards  that  he  had  ever  tried  to  make 
himself  falsely  civil  and  lyingly  agreeable. 

"  Yes,  I  have  stayed  very  much  too  long  already. 
You  've  promised  that  you  will  be  careful,  have  n't 
you?  I  'm  really  too  sorry,"  she  said,  from  the  door, 
"  that  your  visit  to  Hunston  should  have  been  made 
disagreeable  in  all  these  ways." 

"  In  the  name  of  heaven,"  he  said,  stung  into  mo 
mentary  recklessness,  "  you  don't  suppose  that  I  came 
here  expecting  any  fun!  " 

"  Why  —  I  had  understood  that  it  was  purely  a 
pleasure-trip  that  brought  you  here !  " 

He  made  no  answer  to  this,  but  stepped  forward  and 
swung  open  the  door  for  her. 


202       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  Maginnis,"  he  said,  "  is  to  call  for  me  immedi 
ately  in  a  motor.  We  shall  leave  by  the  unobtrusive 
back  alley.  Two  men,  a  motor,  and  a  dark  rear  exit. 
You  will  scarcely  imagine  that  there  is  any  danger 
now.  But  may  I  thank  you  again  for  giving  us  warn 
ing  when  there  was,  perhaps,  some  danger  ?  " 

"So  you  think  there  is  a  'perhaps'?  If  you  take 
precautions,  it  is  only  to  humor  a —  " 

"  I  withdraw  that  '  perhaps,'  "  he  broke  out  in  a 
rush.  "  I  blot  it  out,  annihilate  it.  Who  am  I  to 
catch  at  tatters  of  self-respect?  Are  you  blind?  Can't 
you  see  that  every  fiber  of  me  is  tingling  with  the 
knowledge  that  there  was  real  danger,  and  that  you 
saved  me  from  it?  " 

The  quick  bitterness  in  his  voice,  which  there  was  no 
missing,  was  the  last  straw,  breaking  through  her  re 
serve,  demolishing  her  dainty  aloofness.  She  shook 
the  swinging  gray  veil  back  out  of  her  eyes  and  looked 
up  at  him,  openly  and  frankly  bewildered,  looking  very 
young  and  immeasurably  alluring. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  why  you  speak  in  that  way? 
Will  you  tell  me  why  it  is  the  worst  thing  that  has  hap 
pened  to  you  in  Hunston  to  have  been  helped  a  little 
by  me?" 

They  faced  each  other  at  the  open  door,  net  an  arm's 
length  between  them ;  and  the  moment  of  his  reckon 
ing  for  the  quarter  of  an  hour  he  had  spent  with  her 
that  night  was  suddenly  upon  him.  He  met  her  eyes, 
which  were  darkly  blue,  stared  down  into  them ;  and 
as  he  did  so,  the  spell  of  her  beauty  treacherously 
closed  round  him,  piping  away  his  self-control,  deaden- 


DIFFICULTIES   ARE    SMOOTHED   AWAY     203 

ing  him  to  the  iron  fact  of  who  she  was  and  who  he 
was,  shutting  out  all  knowledge  except  that  of  her  fra 
grant  nearness. 

"  It  is  absurd,"  he  answered  her  suddenly,  "  but  to 
save  my  life  I  can't  decide  whether  you  are  tall  or 
short." 

The  front  door  came  open  with  a  bang;  the  noise 
brought  him  sharply  to  himself;  and  the  next  moment 
a  pleasant  impatient  masculine  voice  called  out : 

"  I  say,  Miss  Carstairs !  Er  —  everything  all 
right?" 

"  Oh !  —  yes,  Mr.  Richards !  "  she  called  penitently. 
"  I  'm  coming  this  minute.  No,  please  don't  go  out 
with  me,  Mr.  Varney.  Don't  let  anybody  see  that  you 
are  here." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  he,  struggling  for  a  poise 
which  he  could  not  quite  recapture.  '  Then  will  you 
be  good  enough  to  convey  my  gratitude  to  Mr.  Hig- 
ginson  and  say  that  I  hope  to  have  the  opportunity 
of  thanking  him  personally  to-morrow?" 

"Yes,  of  course.  Good-night  once  more — and  good 
luck!" 

But  he  detained  her  long  enough  to  put  the  plain 
business  question  which  had  been  torturing  his  soul 
for  the  last  twenty-four  hours. 

"  We  shall  see  you  at  luncheon  to-morrow  ?  " 

He  strove  to  give  his  remark  the  air  of  a  mere  com 
monplace  of  farewell;  but  at  it,  he  saw  her  look  break 
away  from  his  and  the  warm  color  stream  into  her 
face. 

"  Why  —  I  —  I  '11  come  with  pleasure.     We  don't 


204       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

get  the  chance  to  lunch  on  yachts  every  clay  in  Hun- 
ston.  Oh,  but  please,"  she  exclaimed,  .her  embarrass 
ment  suddenly  melting  in  a  very  natural  and  charm 
ing  smile  —  "  never  let  my  mother  dream  that  we  've 
not  been  introduced! " 

He  bowed  low  so  that  she  might  not  see  the  bur 
lesque  of  polite  pleasure  on  his  face. 

The  back  alley  exit  proved  all  that  the  most  timorous 
could  have  desired.  Peter  approached  it  by  an  elusive 
detour ;  Varney  appeared  promptly  at  the  sound  of  his 
three  honks;  and  the  rendezvous  was  effected  in  a 
black  darkness  which  they  seemed  to  have  entirely  to 
themselves.  Not  a  hand  was  raised  to  them,  not  a 
threatening  figure  sprang  up  to  dispute  their  going, 
not  a  fierce  curse  cursed  them.  The  would-be  assas 
sins,  if  such  there  were,  presumably  still  lurked  in  some 
Main  Street  cranny,  patiently  and  stupidly  waiting,  en 
tirely  unaware  that  they  had  been  neatly  outwitted  by 
the  clever  strategics  of  Miss  Mary  Carstairs. 

The  car  rolled  noiselessly  out  of  the  alley,  skimmed 
off  through  the  southern  quarter  of  the  town  and 
bowled  into  the  rough  and  rutty  River  road  toward  the 
yacht.  Once  there,  since  a  sharp  lookout  for  the  re 
porter  \vas  necessary,  they  slowed  dowrn  and  down 
until  the  smooth  little  car,  with  all  lights  out,  crawled 
along  no  faster  than  a  vigorous  man  will  walk. 

"  What  're  you  going  to  do  when  we  catch  him?  " 
asked  Peter.  "  Want  to  haul  him  on  back  to  the 
yacht?" 

"  No.  I  'm  —  only  going  to  talk  to  him  a  little. 
Go  on  with  the  story." 


DIFFICULTIES   ARE   SMOOTHED   AWAY     205 

"  Well,"  resumed  Peter,  taking  one  hand  from  the 
driving-wheel  to  remove  a  genuine  Connecticut  Ha 
vana,  "  the  first  thing  was  a  wire  from  the  Daily  fir 
ing  Hammerton.  That  assisted  a  little,  of  course. 
Then,  they  asked  us  to  give  them  a  new,  good  man  at 
once,  and  meantime  to  push  along  all  the  story  we  had. 
We  answered  with  a  wire  that  was  a  beauty,  if  I  do 
mention  it  myself,  telling  them  exactly  how  they  'd 
been  sold  a  second-hand  gold  brick  by  a  corrupt  paper 
which  was  trying  to  play  politics.  It  simply  knocked 
the  pins  from  under  them.  It  took  'em  quite  a  while 
to  come  back  with  inquiries  about  the  name  off  the 
yacht,  Varney's  air  of  mystery  and  all  that  line  of 
slush.  My  response  was  vigorous,  yet  gentlemanly, 
straining  the  truth  for  all  she  'd  stand,  and  even  bu'st- 
ing  her  open  here  and  there,  I  gravely  fear.  However, 
it  was  a  clincher.  It  crimped  them  right.  Not  a  peep 
have  we  had  from  'em  since." 

"  I  suppose  they  '11  run  four  lines  on  the  thirteenth 
page  to-morrow  explaining  it  was  all  a  mistake." 

"  But  that  was  n't  the  serious  part  of  the  thing  — 
not  by  a  mile-walk,"  continued  Peter,  the  shine  of  vic 
tory  in  his  honest  eyes.  "  Am  I  still  in  the  road  ? 
Sing  out  if  you  see  me  taking  to  the  woods,  will  you? 
The  more  I  think  of  what  you  and  I  have  missed  by  a 
shave,  the  more  I  'm  likely  to  feel  sick  in  the  stomach. 
You  know  those  rascals  had  already  begun  asking  for 
orders  all  over  the  country  —  they  were  so  sure  they  'd 
have  a  hot  story  to  send  out.  Not  only  that,  but  a 
lot  of  papers  wired  for  it  without  being  asked.  It 
looked  as  if  every  newspaper  office  in  America  that 


206       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

had  got  a  glimpse  at  the  Daily  this  morning  instantly 
got  dead  stuck  on  that  story.  I  stood  at  the  telegraph 
desk  and  watched  the  accursed  things  come  in,  like 
this :  '  500  words  story  involving  Stanhope,  Rochester 
Tribune'  '  No.  3.  — '  That  was  the  numher  of  our 
story  on  the  query  list.  —  '  No.  3.  —  Full  details,  Chi 
cago  Ledger.'  '  No.  3  —  1000  words,  Philadelphia 
Journal.'  And  so  on  and  on.  It  looked  uncanny,  I 
tell  you  —  all  those  far-away  people  calling  for  infor 
mation  about  our  affairs  just  like  old  friends.  Will 
you  kindly  let  your  mind  play  about  that  a  minute, 
Laurence?  Will  you  kindly  think  of  a  situation  like 
that  with  Ryan  and  Coligny  Smith  handling  it  as  their 
little  whimseys  dictated  ?  " 

"  I  'd  rather  not.  You  wired  those  papers  that  the 
story  was  a  canard  and  all  that,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"No!"  roared  Peter,  "I  did  something  a  whole 
lot  better  than  that.  I  had  one  of  the  men  write  a  hot 
political  story  about  the  Gazette  and  the  change  of 
management  and  the  sudden  rise  of  Reform.  There  's 
news  in  that,  don't  you  see  ?  —  and  it  was  the  Stan 
hope- Varney  story,  too  —  the  real  one.  When  I  left 
the  office,  they  were  selling  it  like  hot  cakes,  all  over 
the  country  —  all  over  the  world  — 

"  Hold  on !  "  said  Varney,  sharply.  "  Here  's  Ham- 
merton,  I  think  —  bringing  in  a  whole  lot  better  story 
than  yours !  " 

The  road  here  was  straight  as  a  string  stretched 
tight.  Far  down  it,  they  saw  a  single  small  light, 
dancing  towards  them  a  foot  or  two  above  the  ground. 

Peter  threw  off  his  clutch,  clapped  on  his  brakes  and 


DIFFICULTIES   ARE    SMOOTHED   AWAY     207 

stopped  short.  Varney  slid  out  of  the  seat  and  stood 
waiting  in  the  black  inkiness  beside  the  imlighted  car. 
In  the  sudden  stillness  they  could  hear  the  rattle  of  the 
bicycle  chain  and  even  the  crunch  of  the  hard-blown 
tires,  spinning  rapidly  over  the  road.  Now  the  light 
was  perhaps  a  hundred  yards  away. 

"  Blow  !  "    whispered  Varney. 

The  horn's  honk  cut  the  silent  air  hoarsely.  Instantly 
the  speed  of  the  oncoming  light  was  checked.  It 
advanced  steadily,  but  much  more  slowly,  as  though 
the  rider  sensed  that  his  road  might  be  blocked,  but 
could  not  yet  determine  where  the  hidden  obstacle 
might  be. 

"  Hello ! "  called  a  lusty  young  voice  suddenly. 
"Who's  there?" 

There  was  no  answer.  The  light  came  on  more 
slowly  still.  Now  it  was  fifty  yards  away,  now  twenty, 
now  ten.  Varney  stepped  out  of  the  blackness,  directly 
in  front  of  it,  and  seized  both  handle-bars  in  fingers 
that  gripped  like  a  vise.  The  shock  of  the  sudden 
stopping  all  but  cost  the  rider  his  seat. 

"  May  I  detain  you  one  moment,  please,  Mr.  Ham- 
merton?  " 

The  little  light  of  the  bicycle  lamp  was  all  con 
centrated  downward.  Above  that  round  yellow  ray, 
faces  were  unrecognizable  in  the  pitchy  blackness.  The 
voice,  however,  was  unmistakable.  Hammerton  was 
off  the  back  of  his  wheel  in  the  wink  of  an  eye,  on  a 
sudden  desperate  bolt  for  the  woods. 

Peter,  still  on  the  driver's  seat,  and  seeing  neither 
his  friend  nor  his  enemy,  saw  the  light  with  the  bicycle 


2o8       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

behind  it  go  over  with  a  crash.  That  was  when  Var- 
ney's  hands  let  go  of  the  handle-bars.  The  next 
instant  they  fell  upon  Hammerton's  withdrawing  figure 
and  brought  it  up  with  a  sharp  jerk. 

Peter  heard  the  ensuing  struggle,  but  saw  nothing. 
He  paid  Varney  the  tribute  of  sitting  still  in  his  seat 
and  saying  not  a  word.  The  contest  was  bitter,  but 
brief.  Hammerton  fought  wildly,  but  Varney's  arms 
presently  closed  round  him,  squeezing  the  life  out  of 
him.  Locked  fast  in  each  other's  arms,  they  fell 
heavily,  Hammerton  underneath.  Varney  freed  his 
legs  with  a  swift  wrench,  swung  round  and  came  up 
riding  upon  the  other's  chest. 

Charlie  Hammerton  was  beaten  and  knew  it.  His 
body  lay  along  the  rocky  road,  inert  and  unresisting. 
He  breathed  in  convulsive  gasps,  but  apart  from  that, 
now  that  he  was  down,  he  never  moved.  He  was  as 
tired  as  a  man  well  could  be.  Varney  sitting  closely 
upon  him,  holding  him  fast,  felt  that  the  reporter's 
clothes  were  wringing  wet.  However,  he  had  him, 
and  the  Cypriani's  great  secret  was  once  more  in 
captivity. 

The  eyes  of  the  two  men  strained  into  the  dark 
where  each  other's  faces  must  be,  but  they  saw  nothing. 

"  It 's  all  up  with  you,  Hammerton,"  said  Varney 
presently.  "  The  Daily  fired  you  an  hour  ago." 

"  Thanks  to  you,"  said  Hammerton  doggedly.  "  But 
if  you  think  that  lets  you  out,  you  're  a  bigger  fool  than 
I  thought." 

"  That  is  not  all,"  said  Varney  slowly.  "  The  Ga 
zette  has  fired  you,  too." 


DIFFICULTIES   ARE   SMOOTHED   AWAY     209 

The  reporter  swore  bitterly  beneath  his  breath :  curi 
ously  enough,  he  did  not  seem  to  question  the  state 
ment  for  a  moment.  "  What  of  it?  "  he  cried.  "  You 
don't  think  that  '11  stop  my  mouth,  do  you  —  you 
devil! " 

"  There  is  still  something  more.  Maginnis  has 
bought  the  Gazette.  He  and  I  own  the  news  of  this 
town  now.  Coligny  Smith  is  fired,  too.  The  Gazette 
starts  an  honest  life  to-morrow,  and  the  old  dirty 
regime  is  over  forever." 

"  Liar !  "  cried  Hammerton,  hoarsely.  "  Liar !  " 
but  there  was  no  conviction  in  the  mad  resentment  of 
his  voice. 

"  No,"  said  Varney,  without  anger.  "  I  am  telling 
you  the  truth  and  you  know  it." 

"Well  —  there  are  other  papers  —  other  towns," 
cried  Hammerton  passionately.  "  What  I  've  got  on 
you  will  sell  anywhere.  Why,  damn  you,  damn  you, 
damn  you  —  don't  you  know  you  '11  have  to  kill  me 
to  hush  this  up  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Varney,  "  I  'm  going  to  do  better  than 
that.  I  'm  going  to  make  a  friend  of  you.  I  'm  going 
to  make  you  editor  of  the  Gazette  in  Smith's  place 
with  double  your  present  salary  and  an  interest  in  the 
paper." 

There  was  black  silence,  more  thrilling  than  any 
speech. 

"  Will  you  take  it  ?  "  asked  Varney. 

Then  the  boy's  overstrained  self-command  snapped 
like  a  bow-string  and  his  breast  shook  with  sudden 
hysteria.  "  WTill  I  take  it  ?  "  he  cried  with  a  gasping 


laugh  that  was  rather  more  like  a  sob.  "  Will  I  take 
the  Court  of  St.  James?  Will  I  take  money  from 
home?  Oh,  my  God,  will  I  take  it !  " 

"Hooray!"  rang  Peter's  great  voice  out  of  the 
gloom.  "  Hip,  hip,  hooray  for  Editor  Hammerton!  " 

Peter's  tribute,  in  reality,  was  not  so  much  for  Ham- 
merton's  acceptance  as  for  the  astonishing  neatness 
with  which  Varney  had  disposed  of  the  editorship  of 
his  paper.  But  to  Varney,  rising  limply  from  Ham- 
merton's  chest  at  the  edge  of  the  dark  road,  that 
cheer  meant  only  that  he  had  kicked  the  last  obstacle 
out  of  his  path  and  that  he  and  Mary  were  going  to 
New  York  to-morrow. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

A    LITTLE    LUNCHEON    PARTY    ON    THE    YACHT 
"  CYPRIANI  " 

The  expectation  appeared  thoroughly  conservative : 
not  a  cloud  so  large  as  a  man's  hand  any  longer 
darkened  the  horizon.  At  two  o'clock  next  day  Mr. 
Carstairs's  Cypriani  rode  gayly  at  her  old  anchorage. 
At  the  rail  stood  Varney  and  Maginnis,  hosts  of 
pleasant  and  guileless  mien,  their  eyes  upon  the  trim 
gig  which  came  dancing  over  the  \vater  toward  them. 
In  the  gig  sat  J.  Pinkney  Hare  and  his  sister,  Mrs. 
Marne,  blithely  coming  to  lunch  aboard  with  their 
two  new  friends. 

The  yacht's  return  to  Hunston  had  been  in  all 
ways  different  from  her  going.  She  had  slipped  away 
like  the  hunted  thing  she  was,  running  to  cover  with 
a  hold  full  of  fears,  shying  at  every  craft  that  passed, 
and  yelled  after  from  the  shore  by  a  stoutish  young 
man  with  inimical  opinions  in  his  eye.  She  had 
steamed  back,  early  this  morning,  not  merely  without 
fear,  but  proudly,  her  whistle  screaming  for  the  lime 
light,  her  fore-truck  flying,  so  to  say,  the  burgee  of 
vindication ;  and  the  stoutish  and  inimical  young  man 
had  come  aboard  for  breakfast  with  his  new  employer 
at  nine  o'clock  sharp.  Such  was  the  measure  of  the 


212       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

whitewashing  work  accomplished  by  three  columns  in 
Mr.  Maginnis's  Gazette  that  morning. 

Of  the  "  news  value  "  of  those  astonishing  columns, 
"  the  author's  double "  (as  the  Gazette's  converted 
reporters  felicitously  dubbed  him)  had  had  abundant 
evidence  in  the  many  glances  that  followed  him  upon 
the  streets  of  Hunston  that  morning.  Varney's  errand 
in  town  had  had  to  do  with  Tommy  Orrick.  Some 
search  was  needed  to  find  the  transient  tenant  of  Ker 
rigan's  loft ;  but  when  he  was  finally  located  the  matter 
of  homes  in  New  York  was  discussed  and  settled  in 
the  most  satisfactory  way  in  the  world.  It  was  decided 
that  Tommy  should  remove  his  Penates  to  the  city 
that  very  evening,  where  he  was  to  be  met  at  Forty- 
second  Street  by  a  Mr.  Horace  O'Hara,  an  interesting 
personage  who  had  once  been  a  burglar  but  was  now 
in  the  fish  and  vegetable  way  at  Fulton  Market.  To 
gether  they  would  make  their  way  to  the  Home. 
Future  plans  had  to  do  with  an  educative  course  at 
the  graded  schools  and  other  matters  so  strange  and 
exalted  that  one  could  not  hear  them  mentioned  with 
out  experiencing  the  most  benumbing  abashment. 

The  two  good  friends  parted  with  a  handshake, 
enforced  by  the  young  man  —  a  unique  ceremonial 
which  filled  the  small  breast  of  Thomas  with  a  conflict 
of  strange  emotions;  and  Varney,  having  dispatched 
a  telegram  to  Mr.  O'Hara,  and  another  to  Mrs.  Marie 
Duval,  who  had  the  home  with  no  boys  in  it  on  U7th 
Street,  had  at  once  turned  his  face  back  to  the  yacht. 
He  chose  the  woodland  path  for  his  \valk,  which 
struck  straight  down  from  the  handsome  residence 


A   LITTLE   PARTY   ON   THE   YACHT     213 

street  and  skirted  the  river  at  a  point  near  the  Cypri- 
ani's  anchorage;  and  here  an  incident  of  interest  befell 
him.  As  he  sauntered  down  the  path,  conscious  of  a 
sudden  curious  loss  of  spirits,  his  attention  was  caught 
by  the  blurred  sound  of  voices  from  the  street,  some 
fifty  yards  behind  him ;  and  presently  the  vague  rumble 
crystallized  into  something  like  this : 

"...  Infernal  absence  of  livery  .  .  .  Far  .  .  . 
station-master  fellow  say  it  was,  Henry?" 

The  voice  was  masculine,  carefully  modulated,  decid 
edly  elegant.  A  different  sort  of  voice  gave  answer : 

'  'E  said,  sir  ...  mile,  but  knowing  the  hodd  way 
they  count  distances  away  from  the  cities,  sir,  I  'm 
'ardly  'oping  to  see  it  under  two  mile  —  hif  that." 

Varney  idly  turned.  The  woods  were  thick  just 
ahead  of  him,  cutting  off  all  view  of  the  street;  but 
further  on,  to  the  north,  there  was  a  break  in  the  leafy 
wall,  revealing  a  small  slit  of  patent  cement  sidewalk. 
Soon,  as  he  watched,  two  pedestrians  stepped  into 
view  within  this  frame  of  foliage:  a  tall  immaculate- 
looking  man  swinging  a  trim  cane,  and  behind  him  a 
stocky,  middle-sized,  black-garbed  fellow  struggling 
along  under  two  suit-cases  and  a  roll  of  umbrellas. 
In  three  steps  they  had  passed  across  the  little  open 
space  and  were  again  lost  behind  the  trees,  their  voices 
running  once  more  into  an  indistinguishable  rumble. 

Varney,  halting  in  the  path,  had  little  doubt  who  the 
tall  man  was.  It  was  Ferris  Stanhope,  returning  to 
the  home  of  his  boyhood  and  sublimely  unaware  of  the 
nature  of  the  reception  which  awaited  him. 

Cordially  as  Varney  loathed  the  great  author,  he  had 


2i4        CAPTIVATING   MARY    CARSTAIRS 

no  wish  to  see  him  taken  by  surprise  and  beaten  to  a 
pulp  by  mob-law.  Moreover,  if  anything  like  that 
happened,  he  and  Peter  would  be  largely  responsible, 
since  the  present  excitement  of  feeling  had  been  largely 
worked  up  for  their  benefit.  He  had  half  a  mind  to  go 
straight  after  the  insouciant  visitor  now,  unpleasant  as 
it  would  be  to  have  to  speak  to  him,  and  give  him  the 
fair  warning  he  was  entitled  to.  But  he  dismissed 
the  impulse  as  plainly  overdoing  his  duty:  the  man 
was  in  no  possible  danger  in  broad  daylight,  and  Peter 
had  already  promised  that  he  would  attend  to  the 
warning  business  himself. 

Now,  as  they  stood  calmly  chatting  at  the  rail  under 
the  brilliant  sky,  he  told  Peter  of  the  author's  arrival, 
and  dutifully  reminded  him  of  that  promise.  Peter 
renewed  it,  without  enthusiasm.  His  eyes  rested  on 
the  approaching  gig  with  a  kind  of  fascination ;  and 
Varney  followed  his  gaze. 

"  Is  n't  Hare  dressy,  though !  Frock-coat  and  all 
that  .  .  ." 

"  Yes  .  .  .  He'  11  add  a  needed  touch  of  elegance  to 
the  somber  setting  of  the  drama." 

"  By  the  way,"  said  Varney  presently,  "  how  did 
Hammerton  get  away  last  night?  I  believe  Fergu 
son  's  been  dodging  me  all  day,  but  the  fact  is  I  've 
never  given  it  a  thought." 

Peter  laughed. 

"  He  's  sharp  as  a  tack,  that  boy  is.  He  played 
dead  till  old  Ferguson  got  first  interested,  then  nervous, 
and  lastly  careless.  Lay  there  two  hours  without 
moving ;  breathed  as  little  as  he  could  do  with,  and  at 


A   LITTLE   PARTY   ON   THE   YACHT     215 

long  intervals  fluttered  one  eyelid  and  took  a  peep  how 
the  land  lay.  After  a  while  there  came  a  time  when 
the  door  was  left  wide  open  and  only  one  deckhand  in 
sight.  Hammerton  floored  him  with  a  chair  from 
behind,  and  jumped  over  the  rail.  She  happened  to 
be  moving  close  inshore  at  the  time,  and  he  was  in  the 
woods  before  the  fatheads  even  got  a  boat  down." 

Varney  echoed  his  laugh  absently.  All  morning, 
since  his  return  from  Hunston,  he  had  felt  himself 
enfolded  by  a  mysterious  despondency,  which  he  had 
seemed  unable  either  to  account  for  or  to  shake  off. 
But  now,  as  the  final  climax  of  his  business  drew  near 
to  summon  him,  he  felt  his  spirits  inexplicably  rising 
again.  A  certain  excitement  possessed  him;  he  was 
glad  that  at  last  his  hour  had  come. 

Hardly  listening  to  Peter,  he  was  running  over  in 
the  most  business-like  way  the  little  scheme,  mapped 
out  and  rehearsed  together  that  morning,  by  which 
the  two  superfluous  guests,  the  mere  "  sleepers  "  in  the 
orchestra,  were  to  be  detached  at  the  proper  moment. 
Yes,  certainly;  it  was  sound  and  would  hold  water. 
So  would  everything  else.  Peter's  things  had  gone 
ashore  two  hours  before,  for  he  was  to  remain  in 
Hunston.  Everything  had  been  provided  for;  the 
last  detail  systematically  arranged.  A  surer  scheme 
and  a  clearer  coast  could  not  possibly  have  been  con 
trived  or  desired. 

"  At  breakfast,"  continued  Peter,  "  Hammerton  sud 
denly  blurted  out  that,  while  he  was  n't  crazed  with 
conscientiousness  as  a  rule,  one  thing  had  kept  him 
awake  last  night.  Demanded  whether  we  had  the 


216       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

nerve  to  think  that  we  had  simply  bought  him  off  with 
a  job.  '  Perish  the  thought,  Charlie,'  said  I,  looking 
kind  of  hurt  at  the  bare  suggestion.  '  Thank  you, 
Maginnis,'  said  he,  dignified  as  the  President.  '  It 's 
an  honest  fact  that  I  gave  up  the  chase  because  I  felt 
all  along  that  you  two  fellows  could  n't  possibly  be 
mixed  up  in  anything  underhanded.'  Aha!  thinks  me 
to  myself  .  .  .  Eh,  Laurence?" 

"  Just  exactly." 

"  Well,  cheer  up.  It 's  done  every  day  by  our  best 
families.  And  speaking  of  doing  underhanded  things," 
said  Peter,  "  our  guests  approach  rapidly.  Up,  guards, 
and  at  them !  " 

He  took  off  his  terrible  Panama  and  waved  it  in  a 
friendly  manner. 

"  How-de-do,  Mrs.  Marne !  Morning,  candidate ! 
Welcome  aboard." 

The  sister  and  brother  came  up  the  stair,  and  were 
cordially  greeted  by  their  hosts. 

"  Ashore  again !  "  ordered  Varney  over  the  side. 
"  There  is  another  guest." 

"  So  we  have  not  kept  you  waiting  after  all,"  cried 
Mrs.  Marne,  flashing  a  triumphant  eye  upon  her 
brother.  "Mary  is  not  here  yet  —  the  prinker !  " 

She  was  dark,  vivacious  for  a  chaperon,  easily  on 
the  correct  side  of  thirty,  and  arrayed  in  very  light 
mourning  indeed.  She  had  a  will :  for  it  was  she  who 
had  baited  J.  Pinkney  Hare  with  sociology  and  politics 
to  abandon  the  law  in  New  York,  at  which  he  was 
doing  rather  well,  and  follow  her  to  Hunston.  This 
was  when  her  husband,  a  member  of  Hunston's  oldest 


A  LITTLE   PARTY   ON   THE   YACHT     217 

family  —  for  there  was  aristocracy  in  the  town  — 
had  left  her  widowed  the  year  of  their  marriage. 

"  Three  times,"  Hare  elucidated  to  Varney,  "  did 
she  tell  me,  '  I  '11  be  ready  in  a  minute.'  And  a  ten- 
minute  interval  elapsed  each  time,  by  my  grandfather's 
trusted  chronometer." 

"  Oh,  well,"  said  Varney,  "  who  'd  put  any  trust  in 
a  woman  who  was  ready  when  she  said  she  'd  be  ? 
Let 's  get  into  the  shade." 

"  Pinky,"  said  Mrs.  Marne,  sister-wise,  as  she  turned 
with  Varney,  "  gets  his  ideas  about  women  from  the 
comic  weeklies." 

They  sauntered  aft,  Peter  and  Hare  in  the  rear. 

"Committee  meeting  at  five-thirty?" 

"  Precisely.     And  by  the  bye,"  began  Hare.  .  .  . 

The  candidate,  in  his  tiny  frock  coat,  with  pale  gray 
spats  and  scarf  to  match,  looked  overdressed  in  the 
brilliant  sunshine.  Yet  probably  Peter,  whose  purple 
tie  blossomed  too  gorgeously  above  a  blue  silk  "  fancy 
vest "  of  a  cut  a  good  deal  affected  in  the  early 
nineties,  looked  the  more  striking  of  the  two. 

"  He  's  a  fool,"  declared  Peter  presently.  "  The 
chances  are  that  Ryan  has  a  barrel  of  votes  salted 
down  where  we  '11  have  the  devil's  own  time  tapping 
them.  You  can't  smoke  out  a  skunk  in  a  minute,  I 
tell  you." 

Mrs.  Marne,  in  a  cushioned  chair,  was  being  mark 
edly  agreeable  to  her  host. 

"  It 's  my  debut  on  a  yacht,"  she  was  rattling  away. 
"  Is  there  any  special  etiquette?  Coach  me  from  time 
to  time  when  you  see  me  fumbling,  won't  you?  And 


218       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

if  there  is  a  code,  there  is  one  thing  that  I  move  shall 
go   into   it,   here   and   now.      Politics   is  —  or   are  — 
barred  for  the  day !    Will  you  make  it  a  rule  that  who 
ever   mentions   it  —  or    them  —  forfeits   butter,    Mr. 
Varney?" 

Varney  laughed.  "  A  rank  outsider  myself,"  said 
he,  "  I  'm  absolutely  willing.  But  I  fear  that  in  a 
division  the  nays  would  have  it." 

"  You  and  I,"  she  said,  "  against  Mr.  Maginnis  and 
Pinky.  A  tie.  Mary  would  have  the  deciding  vote." 

"  Then  you  'd  lose  out,"  said  her  brother,  whose 
social  manner,  it  was  developing,  differed  somewhat 
from  that  of  his  official  moments. 

"  I  know  women,"  said  Mrs.  Marne.  "  I  could  lobby 
Mary  over  in  exactly  two  minutes,  Mr.  Varney.  Be 
sides,  she  is  absent  at  roll-call,  you  know." 

"  The  point  is  well  taken,"  said  Varney,  to  whom 
the  thought  was  anything  but  a  novelty. 

"  There  she  is  now,"  said  Peter  over  their  shoulders. 

Varney  turned  and  looked  ashore  at  the  point  where 
the  gig  was  patiently  waiting.  There  was  no  sign  of 
anybody  there. 

"  Upstream,"  added  Peter,  and  the  sudden  honk  of 
a  motor-horn  punctuated  the  observation  like  a  full 
stop. 

Two  hundred  yards  above  them,  a  narrow  drive 
way  circled  down  to  the  river  to  an  ancient  boat-house, 
and  here  the  gaze  of  the  little  party  turned.  \Yhere 
the  road  curved  at  the  water's  edge,  there  stood  a 
great  white  touring-car,  shining  in  the  sun  like  a  new 
pin.  Upon  the  driver's  seat  sat  a  bare-headed  young 


A   LITTLE   PARTY   ON   THE   YACHT     219 

man  with  a  brown  face  and  light  sunburned  hair, 
brushed  back.  On  the  farther  side  of  him,  gloved  hand 
holding  to  the  seat  back,  stood  a  young  girl  in  a  blue 
linen  dress  and  a  rather  conspicuously  large  hat,  also  of 
blue.  Both  of  them  were  looking  off  toward  the 
Cypriani.  Now  the  horn  tooted  again  in  salutation; 
and  the  girl,  catching  their  eyes,  waved  her  hand  and 
smiled,  making  a  little  gesture  indicative  of  her  lack 
of  equipment  to  navigate  the  intervening  stretch  of 
water. 

Mrs.  Marne  answered  the  salute  in  kind.  Reassur 
ing  gesticulations  were  duly  wafted  ashore. 

"Who's  the  new  swain,  Pinky?"  demanded  Mrs. 
Marne  thoughtfully. 

Pinky  did  not  know.  The  sailing-master,  at  a 
word  from  Varncy,  hurled  an  order  to  the  gig  ashore. 
Then  he  swept  his  megaphone  upstream,  pointing  it 
straight  at  the  motor: 

"  The  gig  is  on  the  way  to  you  now,  Miss." 

"  That 's  an  awfully  sweet  hat  she  's  wearing,"  said 
Mrs.  Marne.  "  I  wonder  where  she  found  that  shape." 

Miss  Carstairs  nodded  her  thanks  to  the  sailing- 
master.  The  bare-headed  young  man  sprang  down, 
assisted  her  to  descend,  waited  with  her  at  the  water's 
edge,  assisted  her  most  thoroughly  into  the  Cypriani's 
gig.  He  was  a  handsome  boy.  He  stood  on  the  shore 
looking  after  the  departing  boat,  laughing  and  calling 
out  something. 

"  We  wanted  to  have  luncheon  on  deck,"  said  Var 
ncy,  abruptly,  to  Mrs.  Marne,  "  as  the  day  is  so 
uncommonly  fine.  But  about  noon  there  came  up  a 


220       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

little  cloud  no  larger  than  a  man's  hand  —  it  took  a 
telescope  to  see  it  —  and  the  steward,  a  pronounced 
conservative,  begged  us  not  to  trifle  with  our  luck.  It 
seems  too  bad  to  go  indoors  on  such  a  glorious  day." 

"  But  if  we  were  to  stay  outdoors,"  she  laughed, 
"  would  it  have  been  such  a  glorious  day  ?  These  are 
the  questions  that  make  cynics  of  us  all.  I  am  unhappy, 
Mr.  Varney,  because  I  have  to  fly  the  moment  luncheon 
is  over.  The  Married  Women's  Culture  Club  meets 
at  four  o'clock.  Only  fancy !  —  I  am  to  read  a  paper 
on  Immanuel  Kant." 

Peter,  who  had  known  no  women  in  his  life  and  was 
oppressed  with  the  thought  that  Hare's  sister  was  his 
personal  responsibility  for  the  day,  was  strolling 
moodily  about  the  deck,  hands  thrust  deep  in  his 
trousers  pocket.  Hare  hung  at  the  rail,  his  neat  glasses 
turned  upstream. 

The  gig  came  alongside  and  Miss  Carstairs  mounted 
the  steps,  the  party  gathered  at  the  head  of  them  to 
meet  her.  Peter,  as  it  chanced,  greeted  her  first.  He 
had  been  introduced  to  her,  in  passing,  the  night  of 
the  meeting,  but  now  he  was  dimly  conscious  that  he 
had  rather  underestimated  her  appearance. 

"  I  am  dreadfully  sorry  to  be  late,"  she  said.  "  We 
went  for  the  shortest  little  drive,  and  all  at  once  it 
was  two  o'clock  and  we  were  three  miles  away." 

"  You  must  have  done  something  to  the  speed-limit, 
madam,"  said  Peter  in  his  stiffest  manner,  "  for  you 
are  in  ample  time." 

"How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Hare?" 

"  Excellently  well,  thank  you,  Mary.  It  is  super 
erogatory  to  ask  you." 


A   LITTLE   PARTY   ON   THE   YACHT     221 

"  Pinky,"  said  Mrs.  Marne,  "  have  that  word  and 
I  met?  I  don't  seem  to  recognize  it." 

"  Good-morning,  Mr.  Varney."  Mary  offered  him 
her  hand;  but,  greeting  her,  he  had  turned  to  pull  a 
chair  out  of  her  way,  and  so  missed  seeing  it. 

"It  is  a  great  pleasure  to  welcome  you  aboard  the 
yacht,  Miss  Carstairs." 

"  If  I  seem  at  all  addicted  to  melancholia  to-day," 
said  Mary,  "  you  won't  be  surprised,  will  you  ?  My 
mother  is  n't  well  —  really !  When  I  left  her  an  hour 
ag°>  y°u  might  have  supposed  that  we  were  parting 
for  a  year.  And  then,  besides  I  had  an  omen  —  a 
mysterious  warning.  .  .  ." 

Varney's  gaze  became  fixed.     "A  warning?" 

She  laughed.  "  A  rather  queer  and  scary  one !  I  '11 
tell  you  presently." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Marne,  when  Varney  had 
turned  to  explain  the  working  of  the  boat-falls  to 
Hare,  "who  is  he?  He  is  simply  cunning!" 

Mary  laughed.  Hare,  who  was  listening  to  boat 
matters  with  one  ear  only,  thought  it  was  rather  a 
conscious  laugh. 

"  Only  John  Richards.  He  came  up  in  his  car 
yesterday  to  spend  a  day  with  us.  How  do  you  like 
my  hat?" 

"  It 's  a  love,"  said  Mrs.  Marne.  "  A  great  big 
love." 

"  I  trimmed  it  myself.  You  recognize  the  feather, 
of  course?  " 

They  went  down  to  luncheon.  The  ladies  cried  out 
with  pleasure  at  the  prettiness  of  the  little  saloon. 


222       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

The  room  was  darkened,  through  half -drawn  shades, 
to  a  pleasant  dimness.  The  table  was  round,  red,  and 
bare.  It  was  a  splendid  mass  of  flowers.  In  the  center 
was  a  great  blossoming  thing  in  a  silver  basket-frame, 
so  large  and  high  that  when  they  were  seated,  Hare, 
who  was  neither,  could  just  see  Mary  over  the  top  of  it. 
About  it  were  four  tall  vases  of  cut  roses,  two  of 
white,  two  of  red.  Button-holes  in  white  and  red  lay 
at  three  covers,  gigantic  American  Beauties,  red,  with 
flowing  white  ribbons,  at  two.  And  napery,  silver, 
iridescent  glass,  all  the  materialities,  were  well  worthy 
of  so  pretty  a  floral  setting. 

In  short,  it  was  a  most  alluring  bait  that  Uncle 
Elbert's  yacht  had  flung  out  for  Uncle  Elbert's 
daughter. 

"  These  roses,"  said  Mary,  raising  hers  to  her  lips, 
"  were  never  grown  in  Hunston." 

"  I  want  to  explain  a  rule  that  Mr.  Varney  and  I 
adopted  just  now,  Mr.  Maginnis,"  said  Mrs.  Marne. 
"Did  you  hear  it?  It  concerns  the  two  subjects  of 
butter  and  politics." 

Hare  lifted  a  glass  of  the  Cypriani's  excellent  sherry 
and  caught  his  host's  eye.  "  Mr.  Varney !  By  a 
pleasant  coincidence,  we  happen  to  be  gathered  here 
within  a  day  or  two  of  the  birthday  of  one  member  of 
our  charming  party.  The  little  discrepancy  of  date 
is  immaterial  —  am  I  right  ?  Why  may  I  not  propose 
the  health  and  great  happiness  of  Miss  Carstairs?  " 

"Standing!"  cried  Mrs.  Marne,  pushing  back  her 
chair.  "Bravo!" 

They  stood,  glasses  raised,  turned  toward  Miss  Car- 


A  LITTLE   PARTY   ON  THE   YACHT     223 

stairs,  bowing,  saluting  her  according  to  their  several 
kinds;  and  she  sat,  looking  up  at  them,  laughing, 
flushed,  prettily  pleased  by  the  little  rite.  For  Varney, 
conscious  of  the  mockery  of  his  felicitations,  there  had 
been  no  escape.  But  Hare,  who  noticed  everything, 
observed  that  he  did  not  touch  his  glass  to  his  lips. 

The  luncheon  progressed  merrily.  It  was  evident 
from  the  beginning  that  it  was  to  be  a  pronounced 
success.  Only  Peter  was  stiff  and  bored;  and  even  he 
grew  somewhat  enlivened  before  the  ceremonies  ended. 
There  was  Scotch  and  soda  for  the  gentlemen,  and  he 
did  not  spurn  it  when  the  decanters  passed.  Varney, 
whose  want  of  appetite  pained  McTosh,  was  a  con 
versational  tower  of  strength.  But  his  talk  was  false- 
faced  talk,  his  mirth  was  lying  mirth,  his  smile  a 
painted  smile.  Uncle  Elbert's  daughter  sat  at  his  left, 
as  befitted  a  guest  of  honor.  Her  eyes,  when  she 
looked  at  him,  were  kind  and  friendly,  but  it  early 
became  his  habit  not  to  meet  them ;  for  he  always  saw 
behind  that  —  saw  them  changed  as  he  was  destined 
to  see  them  within  the  hour.  .  .  . 

"  So  you  're  quite  alive  and  well  to-day !  "  she  said 
to  him  presently.  "  Will  you  believe  that  I  picked  up 
the  Gazette  this  morning  with  fear  and  trembling?" 

"  Oh  —  thank  you  —  yes !  We  eluded  Mr.  Hack- 
ley's  well-meant  attentions  with  marvelous  dexterity 
and  success/' 

"  Ah,  you  still  don't  take  it  seriously,  I  see.     I  'm 

going  to  make  one  more  effort  to  frighten  you  to-day 

—  but  I  'm  afraid  you  are  one  of  these  terribly  reckless 

people  who  think  being  safe  is  too  tame  to  be  inter- 


224       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

esting.  What  do  you  think  of  our  poor  little  city, 
Mr.  Varney?" 

"I?  I  assure  you,"  he  said,  turning  a  gay  face 
toward  her,  "  I  think  it  positively  the  most  exciting 
town  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  But  then,  of  course,  I  've 
had  unusual  privileges.  What  is  much  more  impor 
tant —  what  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"Of  course,  I  love  it.  My  mother  went  here  to 
boarding  school  a  great,  great  many  years  ago.  No, 
not  that  —  some  years  ago.  She  fell  in  love  with  the 
place  on  account  of  the  scenery,  and  the  air,  which  she 
says  is  fresher  than  you  can  get  in  other  places.  Per 
sonally,  I  believe  that  the  same  quality  can  be  had  else 
where,  but  she  says  not  at  all.  So  when  we  —  left 
New  York,  nothing  would  do  for  her  but  to  come 
straight  here." 

"  But  don't  you  find  it  a  little  dull?  " 

"Dull!  Why,"  she  cried,  after  a  moment,  "you 
talk  exactly  the  way  she  does." 

"  May  I  offer  you  an  olive?  " 

She  took  it  daintily  in  her  fingers,  bit  it  and  resumed  : 
"  I  suppose  your  metropolitan  idea  is  that  a  person 
would  be  buried  alive  in  Hunston  ?  " 

A  sunny  shaft  broke  in  from  without  and  became 
entangled  with  her  hair,  whicli  was  in  some  ways  so 
curiously  like  it.  McTosh,  whose  eye  was  everywhere, 
promptly  lowered  a  shade  two  inches  —  the  one  blun 
der  he  made  that  day. 

"Isn't  it?" 

"  That  would  depend  altogether  on  the  person." 

"  Me." 


A   LITTLE   PARTY   ON   THE   YACHT     225 

"  I  do  think  so,  decidedly." 

"  Really  you  and  my  mother  would  be  very  con 
genial." 

"  McTosh,  the  bread,"  said  Peter's  cool  voice. 

Mrs.  Marne,  who  had  been  interested  by  Peter's 
taciturnity  and  fascinated  by  his  waistcoat,  had  been 
leading  that  ordinarily  masterful  man  something  of  a 
conversational  dance.  Detached  for  the  moment  by 
his  demand  for  provender,  she  called  across  the  table : 
"  Mary,  I  herewith  invite  you  to  attend  the  Culture 
Club  meeting  at  four  o'clock  this  afternoon,  to  lead 
the  applause  for  my  paper  on  Immanuel  Kant.  Pinky 
wrote  it  and  —  " 

"  Before  any  court  in  the  land,"  said  Hare,  lifting 
his  glance  above  squab  en  casserole,  "  I  am  prepared 
to  establish  my  innocence  of  this  charge." 

"  If  he  positively  will  not  take  no  for  an  answer," 
continued  Mrs.  Marne,  "  you  may  bring  John  Richards 
along.  No  claret,  thank  you,  Mr.  Maginnis.  Men,  it 
is  true,  are  not  admitted  to  the  sacred  mysteries,  but 
I  will  arrange  to  have  him  seated  on  the  piazza,  where 
he  may  eavesdrop  the  whole  thing  through  the  long 
French  window." 

"  Unfortunately,"  said  Mary,  "  he  has  to  go  to 
'Albany  this  afternoon,  I  believe." 

"  To  resume  our  conversation,  Mrs.  Marne,"  said 
Peter. 

"  I  should  n't  if  I  were  you,"  Hare  recommended. 
"If  memory  serves,  it  was  hardly  worth  it.  Why  not, 
instead,  permit  me  to  tell  the  story  of  the  seven  fat 
men  of  Kilgore  ?  " 


226       CAPTIVATING   MARY    CARSTAIRS 

McTosh,  of  the  gum-shoe  tread,  shuffled  courses 
dextrously.  An  under-steward  assisted  in  the  pres 
entation  of  the  viands,  another  manipulated  dishes  in 
the  hidden  precincts  of  the  pantry.  The  service  was 
swift  and  noiseless,  but  not  more  so  than  the  passage 
of  time.  The  hands  of  the  little  clock  fastened  against 
the  forward  bulkhead  already  stood  at  quarter  after 
three. 

Mary's  eyes,  which  had  been  resting  on  the  candi 
date,  turned  back  to  Varney,  and  they  were  shining. 
"  Seriously,  Mr.  Varney,"  she  said  in  a  lowered  voice 

"  how  could  any  one  possibly  be  buried  in  a  town 
where  Mr.  Hare  is?  " 

"Mr.  Hare?" 

She  nodded.  "  Because  he  is  so  alive!  Why  just 
to  live  in  the  same  town  with  him  is  an  inspiration. 
To  be  friends  with  him  —  well,  that  is  all  you  ever 
need  to  keep  from  feeling  buried  alive !  He  is  n't 
listening,  is  he?  " 

"  No,"  said  Varney,  "  he  is,  I  believe,  telling  the 
story  of  the  seven  fat  men  of  Kilgore." 

"If  you  wish  to  hand  bouquets  to  Pinky  for  a 
while,"  called  Mrs.  Marne,  aside,  "  I  will  see  that  you 
are  not  disturbed,  Mary." 

"  Thank  you,  Elsie,  but  it 's  your  sisterly  duty  to 
listen  to  the  story.  Mr.  Hare,"  she  presently  went  on, 
to  Varney,  "  had  a  great  career  ahead  of  him  in  New 
York  —  Judge  Prentiss  told  me  so  —  and  he  kicked 
it  over  without  a  quiver  and  came  up  here  where  there 
is  n't  any  glitter  or  fireworks,  but  only  plain  hard  wrork. 
Politics  is  only  an  incident  with  him.  No  one  will 


A  LITTLE   PARTY  ON  THE   YACHT     227 

ever  understand  all  that  he  has  done  for  Hunston, 
without  any  thought  of  return  —  working  with  all  his 
heart  and  his  head  and  his  hands." 

"Ha!  Ha!"  said  Peter  down  the  table.  "  That  re 
minds  me  — 

"You  have  known  him  a  long  time,  I  suppose?" 
asked  Varney. 

"  Yes,"  she  laughed,  "  but  he  has  known  me  longer 
—  ever  since  I  was  a  very  little  girl.  That  is  why  he 
calls  me  by  my  name,  which  gives  him  a  great  moral 
advantage.  I  call  him  Mister  because  I  did  n't  know 
him  when  he  was  a  very  little  boy.  I  have  figured  it 
all  out,  and  I  could  n't  have,  because  he  was  thir 
teen  when  I  was  born.  Besides,  you  can't  begin  to 
know  people  till  you  have  reached  a  certain  age.  Can 
you?" 

"  Not  to  say  know,  I  should  think." 

"  Say  six,"  said  Miss  Carstairs.  "  That 's  liberal, 
I  think.  Well,  he  was  nineteen  then,  and  I  never  even 
saw  him  till  seven  years  afterwards,  anyway.  That 
made  him  twenty-six,  which  was  much  too  late.  Now 
he  says  that  I  should  call  him  by  his  name,  but  of 
course  I  'm  not  going  to  do  it." 

"  It  is  hard  to  change  an  old  habit  in  a  thing  like 
that." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  mind  the  hardness  of  it.  But  whoever 
heard  of  calling  a  Mayor  by  his  first  name?  Call  a 
Mayor  Pinky !  The  thought  is  ridiculous.  Is  n't  it, 
Mr.  Hare?" 

But  Hare  was  engrossed  with  a  conversation  of 
his  own,  now  turned  upon  economic  lines. 


228       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  Everything  in  the  world  that  goes  up  muse  come 
down,"  he  was  saying  didactically,  "  except  prices. 
They  alone  defy  the  laws  of  gravity." 

Peter  challenged  the  aphorism,  wordily.  Mrs. 
Marne  smiled  at  Mary  across  the  flower-sweet  table. 

"  No,"  answered  Hare  presently.  "  Money  is  n't 
everything,  but  it  is  most.  It  makes  the  mare  go ; 
also  the  nightmare.  It  talks,  it  shouts,  and  in  the  only 
language  that  needs  no  interpreter.  I  may  describe  it, 
without  fear  of  contradiction,  as  the  Esperanto  of 
commerce." 

"Clever,  Pinky!"  called  his  sister,  derisively. 
''  Confess  that  you  rehearsed  this  before  a  mirror." 

The  luncheon  ended.  If  anything  had  been  wanting 
to  prove  how  agreeable  it  had  been,  it  appeared  now  in 
the  pretty  reluctance  with  which  the  ladies  rose.  There 
was  the  customary  pushing  back  of  chairs,  smoothing 
down  of  garments,  recovering  of  handkerchiefs  from 
beneath  the  board.  The  room  and  the  table  were  the 
objects  of  new  compliments,  given  in  farewell. 

"  Who  would  have  dreamed,"  said  Mary,  looking 
back  from  the  door  at  her  father's  perfectly  appointed 
room,  "that  yachts  were  as  nice  as  this?  " 

"  And  to  think,"  said  Mrs.  Marne,  "  that  it  was  all 
done  by  a  Mere  Man." 

McTosh,  the  mere  man  in  question,  blushed  vio 
lently  behind  his  deft  hand. 

They  stepped  up  on  deck  into  the  shade  of  a  great 
striped  awning,  and  loitered  along  the  side,  caught 
by  the  beauty  of  the  late  summer  scene.  Sky  and  water 
and  green  wood  blended  into  practised  perfectness. 


A  LITTLE   PARTY  ON  THE   YACHT     229 

The  rippling  water  was  blue  as  the  heavens,  which  was 
very  blue  indeed.     The  sun  kissed  it  like  a  lover. 

"  Will  some  one  kindly  tell  me,"  demanded  Hare, 
referring  to  his  sister's  remark,  "  how  the  superstition 
arose  that  men  have  no  taste  ?  " 

"  I  have  read,"  said  Mary  idly,  her  back  against  the 
rail,  "  that  it  was  invented  by  the  authority  who  started 
the  slander  about  women's  having  no  sense  of  humor." 

"  Why,  they  have  n't,  have  they?  " 
'  You  're  wrong  there,  Hare,"  said  Peter,  out  of  his 
fathomless   ignorance.      "  For   my  part   I   think   that 
women  are  often  more  amusing  than  men." 

"  Of  course,  Maginnis,  of  course.  The  point  is  that 
it  never  dawns  on  them." 

They  were  strung  out  along  the  after  deck,  a  gay 
and  friendly  company,  .exactly  as  Varney  had  pictured 
them  in  his  thoughts.  From  the  hatch  emerged  the 
stewards,  in  stately  processional,  bearing  coffee  and 
cigars,  their  paraphernalia  and  appurtenances.  Twenty 
feet  away,  on  the  other  side,  was  to  be  seen  the  sailing- 
master's  wife,  sitting  under  orders,  sedate,  matronly, 
knitting  a  pale  blue  shawl  and  giving  to  the  bright 
scene  an  air  of  indescribable  domesticity. 

"  Women,"  said  Mrs.  Marne  to  Varney,  "  have  a 
splendid  sense  of  humor.  I  am  a  woman  and  I  know. 
True,  we  keep  a  tight  grip  on  our  wit  when  we  are 
with  men,  because,  whatever  men  may  say  in  moments 
like  these,  they  do  loathe  and  despise  a  comical  woman. 
But  when  we  are  alone  together  —  ah,  dearie  me, 
what  funny  things  we  do  say!  Don't  we,  Mary?  " 

Varney,   to   show   himself   how   cool   he   was,   was 


23o      CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

lighting  a  cigarette,  and  had  just  perceived  with  annoy 
ance  that  his  hand  shook. 

"  At  least,"  he  answered  easily,  "  no  man  will  ever 
disprove  that,  since  no  man  has  ever  had  the  pleasure 
of  being  present  when  women  are  alone  together.  I 
can  recommend  the  Invincibles,  Hare." 

Peter,  as  one  sensitive  to  the  duties  of  host,  now 
begged  Mrs.  Marne  to  let  him  show  her  something  of 
the  yacht.  lie  mentioned  the  crew's  quarters  and  the 
— er  —  butler's  pantry  as  points  which  he  particu 
larly  desired  to  bring  to  her  attention. 

"  I  'd  love  to  see  them!  Oh  —  I  must  take  just  one 
peep  before  I  fly." 

The  trio  started  forward  in  a  whirl  of  her  animated 
talk,  Peter  leading  with  a  dutiful  face,  Hare  strutting 
solemnly  along  in  the  rear.  Mary  glanced  at  Varney. 

"  Are  n't  you  going  to  show  me  your  butler's  pantry, 
too?" 

"  Rather!  "  he  said,  starting  with  her  up  the  deck. 
"  But  I  want  you  to  see  the  whole  ship,  you  know, 
much  more  thoroughly  than  Mrs.  Marne  has  time  for 
—  and  to  take  a  little  spin  — " 

He  was  interrupted  by  an  exaggerated  cry  from 
the  lady  last  mentioned,  who,  happening  to  glance 
down  at  her  watch,  had  stopped  short  at  the  cabin- 
hatch  in  great  dismay. 

Now  she  turned  back  to  Varney  crying :  "  Oh !  oh ! 
Mr.  Varney,  it 's  twenty  minutes  to  four!  I  must  fly 
to  my  Culture  this  instant! " 

At  that,  for  Varney,  the  little  party  lost  the  last 
traces  of  its  false  good-fellowship  and  stood  out  for 


A   LITTLE   PARTY   ON   THE   YACHT     231 

what  it  was.  Mrs.  Marne's  hurried  departure  slightly 
dislocated  his  carefully-laid  plans;  it  was  evident  that 
her  brother  had  no  intention  of  going  with  her.  Over 
her  unconscious  head,  his  eye  caught  Peter's  in  a 
faint  sweep  which  indicated  the  little  candidate. 

"  Oh  —  must  you,  Mrs.  Marne?  "  said  Varney,  with 
civil  regret. 

"I  must!  I  wish  —  oh,  how  I  wish!  —  that  cul 
ture  had  never  been  invented.  The  world  lasted  a 
long  time  without  it,  I  'in  sure.  I  detest  to  eat  and 
run,  yet  what  else  can  possibly  be  done  by  the  author 
of  'Ideals  of  Immanncl  Kant'?' 

"  It  is  too  bad,"  said  Varney,  "  but  if  duty  really 
calls,  I  suppose  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  to  have  your 
boat  ready  at  once." 

"  I  ought  to  go,  too,"  said  Mary. 

A  chorus  of  protests  annihilated  the  thought.  Mrs. 
Marne  declared  that  she  would  never,  no,  never,  for 
give  herself  if  she  broke  up  so  delightful  a  party.  It 
was  unanimously  decided  that  the  other  guests  were 
to  remain  long  enough  to  be  shown  something  of  the 
yacht.  Mention  of  a  little  spin  down  the  river  was 
once  more  casually  thrown  out. 

Events  moved  swiftly.  The  gig  was  manned,  wait 
ing.  Varney  under  cover  of  issuing  orders,  found 
opportunity  to  say  a  hurried  word  to  Peter.  Mrs. 
Marne  approached  Mary,  who  was  discussing  yachts 
with  Hare,  to  make  adieu.  Suddenly  the  large  face 
of  Maginnis  loomed  over  her  shoulder. 

"  Good-bye,  Miss  Carstairs  —  you  '11  excuse  me, 
won't  you?"  said  he,  briefly.  "I  —  I  thought  per 
haps  I  'd  just  walk  in  with  Mrs.  Marne." 


232 

Mary  repressed  an  inclination  to  smile.  "  Certainly, 
Mr.  Maginnis.  Good-bye.  I  've  enjoyed  it  a  great, 
great  deal."  And  to  Pinkney  Hare  she  added :  "  You 
are  going  over  the  yacht  with  us,  of  course?  " 

Mrs.  Marne  embarked  in  a  shower  of  farewells. 
Peter,  however,  loitered  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and 
the  gig  waited  at  the  foot  of  them.  Varney  stood  at 
Miss  Carstairs's  elbow,  cool,  smiling,  controlling  the 
situation  with  entire  and  easy  mastery. 

"  It  occurs  to  me,  Miss  Carstairs,"  he  said,  "  that  I 
should  begin  our  tour  by  showing  you  our  sailing- 
master's  wife,  Mrs.  Ferguson  —  decidedly  the  cultured 
member  of  the  ship's  household.  She  reads  Shake 
speare.  She  recites  Browning.  I  dare  say  that  she 
even  sings  a  little  Tennyson.  You  would  enjoy  meet 
ing  her,  I  am  sure.  Will  you  step  around  the  other 
side  for  a  moment  ?  " 

"  How  exceedingly  interesting,"  murmured  Hare, 
falling  in  beside  them.  "  Years  ago,  I  used  to  read 
quite  a  bit  of  poetry  myself." 

The  gig  still  waited  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  Mrs. 
Marne,  waving  upward  last  adieus  to  Mary  and  Var 
ney,  called :  "  Do  hurry,  Mr.  Maginnis.  I  'm  outra 
geously  late." 

But  Peter,  who  had  more  important  matters  than 
Kant  on  his  mind  at  that  moment,  answered  in  a  low, 
hurried  voice :  "  Don't  be  alarmed,  Mrs.  Marne  —  but 
I  must  see  your  brother  at  once  about  —  a  critical 
matter.  Oh,  I  say,  Hare." 

The  candidate,  now  some  distance  up  the  deck  with 
the  others,  stopped  and  looked  back. 


A  LITTLE   PARTY  ON  THE   YACHT     233 

"  May  I  have  a  word  with  you,  please?  " 

Hare  turned,  with  only  a  polite  show  of  reluc 
tance  to  his  host  and  Miss  Carstairs,  and  drew  near. 
Politics  interested  him  far  more  than  the  staunchest 
ship  that  ever  sailed. 

Five  minutes  later  when  Varney,  having  launched 
Miss  Carstairs  and  the  sailing-master's  wife  upon  a 
strictly  innocuous  conversation,  came  around  the  deck 
house  again,  neither  the  candidate  nor  his  sister  was 
anywhere  to  be  seen.  Peter  —  he  who  had  engaged 
to  accompany  the  lady  —  stood  alone  on  the  sunny 
deck,  staring  off  at  the  returning  gig,  his  great  hands 
clenched  in  his  coat-pockets.  He  met  his  friend  with 
a  calm  face. 

"  It 's  all  over  but  the  shouting,"  he  said.  "  They  've 
just  landed.  I  told  Hare  that  there  was  a  plot  on 
against  your  life  —  which  is  very  likely  true  by  the 
way  —  said  he  and  I  must  have  a  conference  at  once 
without  alarming  Miss  Carstairs.  I  had  to  draw  it 
pretty  strong,  you  can  bet,  to  make  him  go  without 
telling  her  good-bye." 

;'  You  've  got  the  letters,"  said  Varney  hurriedly. 
"  Go  to  see  Mrs.  Carstairs  the  first  thing  —  make  the 
explanations.  Call  up  Uncle  Elbert  and  tell  him  six- 
thirty  for  the  carriage  at  the  dock.  Be  sure  to  explain 
to  Hare  and  Mrs.  Marne  at  once  —  prearranged  visit 
to  her  father,  kept  quiet  for  —  any  good  reason." 

"  Of  course,"  said  Peter.  "  Well,  I  must  hurry 
along.  I  promised  to  overtake  them  in  the  woods. 
Oh,  the  lies  I've  told  in  this  ten  minutes!" 

He  turned  and  picked  up  his  hat  and  cane  to  go. 


234       CAPTIVATING  MARY  CARSTAIRS 

To  Varney,  the  simple  act  drove  home  with  great  force 
the  stark  fact  that  he  was  face  to  face  with  his  business 
at  last.  Peter,  holding  out  his  hand  to  say  good-bye, 
was  struck  to  speculation  by  the  look  of  that  eye. 

"Well,  good  luck,  Larry!" 

"  In  heaven's  name  —  what  does  that  mean  ?  " 

"  Hanged  if  I  know,"  said  Peter,  frankly.  "  I  '11  see 
you  in  New  York  —  if  not  sooner."  With  which 
cryptic  observation  he  clattered  down  the  stairs  to 
the  gig. 

Varney  beckoned  the  sailing-master  from  the  quar 
ter-deck. 

"  I  am  returning  to  New  York,  as  I  told  you,  Fer 
guson,  with  the  young  lady,  Mr.  Carstairs's  daugh 
ter.  Start  as  soon  as  possible." 

The  sailing-master  stared  at  the  deck.  "  Ready  at 
once,  sir." 

Mrs.  Ferguson's  fondness  for  classical  poetry  was  no 
part  of  any  stage  make-believe.  Varney,  having  found 
her  the  day  before  sitting  on  a  coil  of  rope  with  Mr. 
Pope's  Odyssey  from  the  ship's  library,  had  conceived 
a  veneration  for  her  taste.  Now,  as  he  drew  near 
them  again,  she  was  telling  Mary  that  though  Tenny 
son  was  fine  for  the  purty  language,  it  was  really 
Browning  who  understood  the  human  heart.  And 
down  in  the  engine  room  they  had  everything  ready 
for  the  bell. 

"  Have  you  two  settled  the  poets'  hash  yet?  "  asked 
Varney.  "  I  hope  you  did  n't  make  the  mistake  of 
preferring  Tennyson  to  Browning,  Miss  Carstairs? 
Thank  you  very  much  for  entertaining  our  guest  so 
nicely,  Mrs.  Ferguson." 


A  LITTLE   PARTY   ON   THE   YACHT     235 

"  What  a  wonder  that  woman  is !  "  said  Mary,  look 
ing  back  at  her  as  they  walked  away.  "  I  had  thought 
that  I  was  rather  good  at  liking  poetry,  but  she  leaves 
me  feeling  like  the  dunce  at  the  kindergarten." 

She  turned  and  looked  out  over  the  water,  caught 
anew  by  the  shining  landscape.  They  stood  side  by 
side  in  the  shade  of  the  wide  low  awning.  Half  a  mile 
to  their  left  huddled  the  town,  whither  the  others  were 
already  on  their  way;  a  few  hundred  yards  behind 
them  stood  the  big  white  Carstairs  house,  handsomely 
cresting  the  hill.  From  many  miles  to  the  northward 
a  breeze  danced  down  the  river,  and  played  capri 
ciously  over  their  faces,  and  so  whisked  on  about  its 
business.  All  the  world  looked  smiling  and  very  good. 

Suddenly  a  bell  tinkled.  There  was  a  slight  splash, 
a  faint  rumble  and  quiver. 

Varney  laughed.  "  The  passion  for  poetry,"  said 
he,  "  is  a  curious  and  complex  thing.  Its  origin  is 
shrouded  in  the  earliest  dawn  of  civilization.  It  ap 
pears  in  man's  first  instinctive  gropings  toward  written 
self-expression  - 

"  Why,"  said  Mary,  in  sudden  surprise,  "  we  arc 
going!  " 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

CAPTIVATING    MARY 

So  Elbert  Carstairs's  dream  had  come  true,  and  his 
daughter  was  going  home  to  him  at  his  desire.  She 
stood  on  his  yacht,  as  truly  a  prisoner  as  though  she 
wore  a  ball  and  chain;  and  the  beat  of  the  engines, 
already  gathering  speed,  was  driving  her  straight 
toward  that  dock  in  Harlem  whither  he,  within  a  very 
short  time,  would  be  driving  down  to  meet  her. 

"Going?    Of  course  we  are,"  said  Varney. 

He  leaned  against  the  rail  and,  looking  at  Mary,  al 
most  laughed  at  the  thought  of  how  easy  and  simple 
it  was. 

"  The  point  of  being  on  a  yacht,  Miss  Carstairs,  is 
to  see  her  go.  Otherwise,  one  might  as  well  sit  in  the 
den  at  home  and  look  at  pictures  of  them  in  the  ency 
clopedia." 

"  But  I  —  did  n't  expect  to  go,"  she  said,  gazing  at 
him  doubtfully  —  "  only  to  look  around  a  little.  I  'm 
really  afraid  I  have  n't  time  for  a  sail." 

"  Well,  you  know,"  he  said  cheerfully,  "  as  far  as 
looking  around  is  concerned,  going  does  n't  necessa 
rily  take  any  longer  than  staying.  In  one  case,  you 
stay  and  look  around :  in  the  other  you  go  and  look 
around.  That  is  really  all  the  difference,  isn't  it?  " 


CAPTIVATING   MARY  237 

"  Well,  then,  it  must  be  a  little  go  and  a  short  look 
around.  Where  does  one  begin,  in  looking  around  a 
yacht?" 

It  would  have  been  plain  to  a  far  duller  plotter  that 
they  should  be  fully  clear  of  Hunston  before  he  ex 
plained  the  situation  to  her  more  definitely. 

"  Suppose,"  said  Varney,  "  we  begin  with  a  few  gen 
eral  remarks  of  a  descriptive  nature.  This  vessel, 
Miss  Carstairs,  is  what  is  known  as  a  schooner-rigged 
steam-yacht.  She  stands  a  good  bit  under  a  hundred 
tons.  She  is  ninety  feet  long,  eighteen  feet  in  the 
beam  and  she  draws  ten  feet  —  " 

"  I  don't  understand  a  word  of  that  except  ninety 
feet  long,  but  it  all  has  a  perfectly  splendid  sound! 
But  where  can  Mr.  Hare  be  ?  Please  send  for  him  like 
a  good  host,  and  begin  back  at  the  beginning 
again.  He  just  told  me  that  yachts  interested  him 
intensely." 

"  But,  unfortunately,  Mr.  Hare  is  no  longer  with 
us." 

"  Not  with  us  ?    Why  —  did  he  get  off?  " 

"  He  certainly  did.  He  and  Maginnis  are  a  great 
pair,  are  n't  they  ?  Not  a  minute  to  give  to  pleasure 
or  anything  of  that  sort.  I  believe  they  slipped  off  to 
Hare's  house  for  another  of  their  eternal  private 
talks." 

"  But  -  Mary  stared  astoundedly.  "  He  said  he 
was  going  around  with  us!  I  asked  him  and  he  ac 
cepted.  And  besides,"  she  went  on,  rolling  up  the 
count  against  the  unhappy  candidate,  "  he  's  got  my 
parasol !  " 


238       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  We  detached  that  from  him  before  he  left.  It 's 
around  on  the  other  side.  I  '11  send  for  it  at  once." 

But  her  puzzled  frown  lingered.  "  I  have  known 
Mr.  Hare  well  for  six  years,"  she  said,  "  and  this  is  the 
first  time  I  ever  knew  him  to  do  such  an  uncivil  thing." 

"  It  was  n't  his  fault,  depend  upon  it.  Maginnis 
called  him  back,  you  know,  and  no  doubt  hauled  him 
off  bodily,  positively  refusing  to  let  him  pause  for 
good-byes.  A  man  of  ruthless  determination,  is 
Maginnis." 

She  glanced  up  the  deck  with  vague  uneasiness,  dis 
quieted  by  the  unexpected  situation.  Forty  feet  away 
sat  the  sailing-master's  wife  still  placidly  knitting  at 
her  pale  blue  shawl,  the  perfect  portrait  of  secure  pro 
priety.  The  sight  of  her  there  was  somehow  reas 
suring. 

"  So  is  Mr.  Hare,  I  always  believed.  But  never 
mind.  How  fast  we  are  going  already !  " 

"  Yes,  the  C  —  this  yacht  goes  fast." 

"  What  is  considered  fast  for  a  yacht?  How  long 
would  it  take  us  to  get  to  New  York?  " 

"  Three  hours.    Why  not  go?  " 

A  white-clad  steward  noiselessly  approached  with 
her  parasol.  She  took  it  and  smiled  at  Varney's  idle 
pleasantry. 

"  Thank  you,  I  have  too  many  responsibilities  this 
afternoon.  First  of  all,  we  —  have  a  guest  at  home. 
Then  I  simply  must  go  to  Mrs.  Thurston's  to  see  about 
some  sewing  at  five.  Last  obstacle  of  all  —  my 
mamma!  What  would  she  think  had  happened?" 

"  Don't  you  suppose  that  she  would  guess?  " 


CAPTIVATING   MARY  239 

"  Do  you  think  I  'm  the  daughter  of  a  clairvoyant, 
Mr.  Varney?  No,  she  would  not  guess.  She  would 
simply  stand  at  the  front  window  in  a  Sister  Ann 
position  all  the  afternoon,  crying  her  pretty  eyes  red. 
But  —  this  is  a  schooner-something  steam-yacht,  ninety 
feet  long,  I  believe  you  said.  What  comes  after  that?  " 

They  had  left  the  town  dock  behind  and  were  scud 
ding  swiftly.  There  was  no  longer  any  reason,  even 
any  pretext,  for  waiting.  Every  pulse  of  the  Cypri- 
ani's  machinery  was  beating  into  his  brain:  "  Tell  her 
now !  Tell  her  now !  " 

But  all  at  once  he  found  it  very  hard  to  speak. 

'  There  is  time  enough  for  that.  There  is  some 
thing  that  I  must  tell  you  first  —  in  fairness  to  Hare. 
The  fact  is  that  I  —  I  made  Peter  take  him  away 
because  I  wanted  to  be  alone  with  you." 

The  crude  speech  plainly  embarrassed  her;  she  be 
came  suddenly  engrossed  in  examining  the  carved  han 
dle  of  her  parasol,  as  though  never  in  her  life  had  she 
seen  it  before. 

Varney  turned  abruptly  from  her  and  looked  out  at 
the  flying  shore. 

"  Last  night,"  said  he,  "  you  may  remember  that  you 
asked  me  a  question.  You  asked  me  why  I  objected  to 
accepting  help  from  you." 

"  Yes,  but  that  was  last  night,"  she  interrupted,  her 
instinct  instantly  warning  her  away  from  the  topic  — 
"  and  you  did  n't  tell  me,  you  know !  Really  —  we 
must  turn  around  in  two  minutes,  and  so  I  have  n't 
time  to  talk  about  a  thing  but  yachts." 

"  I  fear  that  you  must  find  time." 


24o       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  Must,  Mr.  Varney?  " 

"  Must.  This  is  a  matter  in  which  you  are  directly 
concerned." 

She  faced  him  in  frank  wonderment.  "  Why,  what 
on  earth  can  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Now  you  must !  Now  you  must !  "  sang  the 
Cypriani's  staunch  little  engines. 

But  he  made  the  mistake  of  looking  at  her,  and  this 
move  betrayed  him.  There  was  no  doubt  of  him  in  her 
upturned,  perplexed  face,  no  shadow  of  distrust  to 
give  him  strength.  His  earlier  dread  of  this  moment, 
strangely  faded  for  a  while,  closed  in  on  him  once  more 
with  deadly  force. 

"  Don't  you  see  that  I  am  trying  to  tell  you  and  that 
I  am  finding  it  —  hard?"  he  said  quietly. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence ;  then  she  said  hur 
riedly  :  "  Of  course  I  am  all  in  the  dark  as  to  what  you 
—  are  talking  about  —  but  tell  me  another  time,  won't 
you?  Not  now,  please.  And  oh  —  meantime,"  she 
sped  on,  with  the  air  of  hailing  a  new  topic  with  ac 
claim,  "I  have  something  to  tell  you,  Mr.  Varney! 
—  mystery  seems  to  be  in  the  air  to-day.  You  must 
hear  the  strange  thing  that  happened  to  me  this  morn 
ing.  I  have  n't  had  a  chance  to  tell  you  before." 

"  Ah,  yes !    That  mysterious  warning." 

He  clutched  at  the  respite  like  a  drowning  man  at 
straws,  though  no  drowning  man  would  have  felt  his 
sudden  rush  of  self-contempt. 

"  Who  gave  it  to  you,  and  what  was  it  about?  " 

Free  of  his  hidden  restraints,  she  had  quite  thrown 
off  the  embarrassment  which  she  had  felt  settling  down 


CAPTIVATING   MARY  241 

upon  her  a  moment  before,  and  laughed  lightly  and 
naturally. 

"  It  was  about  coming  to  this  beautiful  luncheon  to 
day  —  about  not  coming,  I  mean  —  and  it  was  given 
to  me  —  don't  be  angry  —  by  Mr.  Higginson,  the  old 
man,  you  know,  who  helped  you  last  night." 

"  Ah !  .  .  .  Mr.  Higginson." 

"  Tell  me!  "  she  said  impulsively,  her  eyes  upon  his 
face  —  "I  saw  last  night  that  you  distrusted  him  — 
do  you  know  anything' about  him?" 

With  an  obvious  effort  he  wrenched  his  thought 
from  his  present  urgency,  and  brought  it  to  focus 
upon  a  puzzle  which  now  seemed  oddly  like  an  echo 
from  a  distant  past. 

"  Not  yet,"  he  said,  with  an  impassive  face.  "  But 
I  trust  - 

"  Oh,  I  don't  like  the  way  you  say  that !  I  don't  see 
how  you  can  be  so  suspicious  of  such  a  patently  well- 
meaning  old  dear.  And  yet  —  " 

"  Well,  then,  tell  me  what  he  said  to  you  and  convert 
me." 

"  I  suppose  I  must  —  I  have  had  it  on  my  mind  a 
little,  and  you  have  a  right  to  know.  Yet  I  don't  want 
to  at  all !  For  I  must  say  it  seems  just  a  little  to  —  to 
support  your  view.  Well,  then,"  she  said,  some  per 
plexity  showing  beneath  her  smile,  "  it  happened  about 
eleven  o'clock  this  morning  as  I  was  going  down  the 
street  to  see  Elsie  Marne  —  never  dreaming  of  mys 
teries.  I  met  Mr.  Higginson  walking  towards  our 
house,  and  we  stopped,  so  I  thought,  for  a  friendly 
word.  For  he  and  I  made  friends  last  night.  Oh, 

16 


242       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

you  have  a  right  to  think  I  am  too  free,  too  easy,  in 
the  way  I  —  I  make  friends  with  strangers,  and  yet 
really  this  —  is  not  like  me  at  all.  And  there  is  some 
thing  very  winning  about  this  old  man.  Well,  he 
asked  me  point-blank  —  begged  me  —  not  to  come 
to  your  lunch-party  to-day.  What  have  you  to  say 
to  that?" 

He  continued  to  look  at  her  as  from  a  distance,  not 
answering  her  little  laugh.  Behind  the  grave  mask  of 
his  face  he  cursed  himself  heartily  for  his  self-absorp 
tion  of  the  morning,  which  had  led  him  entirely  to 
lose  sight  of  Mr.  Higginson's  activities  last  night.  He 
had  fully  meant  to  search  out  that  "  winning "  old 
man  on  his  excursion  to  the  town,  but  in  his  engross 
ment  over  the  more  important  duty  of  the  day,  the 
matter  had  dropped  completely  from  his  mind.  That 
the  old  spy  had  somehow  ferreted  out  their  secret  was 
now  too  plain  to  admit  a  doubt.  But  what  conceivable 
use  did  he  mean  to  make  of  it  ?  To  interfere  with  the 
Cypriani's  homegoing  was  beyond  his  power  now. 
Did  it  better  suit  his  mysterious  purpose  to  hold  back 
until  the  thing  was  done,  in  order  to  raise  the  dogs  of 
scandal  afterwards  ?  .  .  . 

For  the  moment  his  mind  attacked  the  problem  with 
curiously  little  spirit;  but  one  thing  at  least  was  in 
stantly  clear.  He  must  return  to  Hunston  to-night, 
by  the  first  train  after  his  arrival  in  New  York,  find 
Higginson  and  call  him  to  his  well-earned  reckoning. 
Meantime  .  .  .  here  was  this  girl,  this  daughter  of 
Uncle  Elbert,  whom  the  old  sneak  had  for  the  second 
time  failed  to  bend  to  his  mean  uses. 


CAPTIVATING   MARY  243 

"  But  what  reason,"  he  said  mechanically,  "  did  he 
give  for  his  rather  unusual  request?" 

"  He  would  n't  give  any !  That 's  what  makes  it  all 
so  ridiculous  —  don't  you  see?  Naturally  I  asked,  but 
he  only  said  in  his  nervous  apologetic  way  that  he 
was  n't  at  liberty  to  tell,  but  that  after  last  night  I 
ought  to  consider  whether  you  —  your  surroundings 
were  likely  to  be  quite  safe.  I  said :  '  But  ought  n't 
you  to  give  me  some  idea  and,  if  there  is  any  danger, 
warn  Mr.  Varney  and  Mr.  Maginnis?  You  can't  mean 
that  there  is  another  plot,  involving  the  yacht  this  time 
—  the  likelihood  of  a  naval  battle  on  the  Hudson?' 
And  then  he  wrung  his  hands  and  said  that  he  could  n't 
tell  me  what  he  meant,  but  that  I  'd  certainly  regret  it 
if  I  came.  There!  Oh,  I  know  he  thought  he  was 
doing  somebody  a  kindness  —  you  and  me  both,  I  be 
lieve!  And  yet  —  that  was  just  a  little  creepy, 
wasn't  it?" 

He  made  no  answer  to  this ;  hardly  heard  what  she 
said.  Mr.  Higginson,  his  works  and  ways,  had  once 
more  slipped  wholly  from  his  mind.  Something  in  the 
look  of  her  face,  its  young  trustfulness,  its  utter  lack 
of  suspicion,  had  already  laid  paralyzing  hold  upon 
him.  Now  a  new  thought  possessed  him;  and  all  at 
once  his  breast  was  in  a  tumult. 

"  And  yet,"  he  said,  with  sudden  fierce  exultation, 
"  you  came!  " 

She  colored  slightly  under  his  look  and  tone  and,  to 
cover  it,  gave  a  light  laugh. 

"  Oh,  yes  .  .  dauntless  person  that  I  am !  Have 
you  the  remotest  idea  what  he  was  talking  about?  .  .  . 


244       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

But  oh,  really  we  must  turn  around  now !  Indeed  we 
must  —  I  had  n't  noticed  how  far  we  have  come. 
And  you  can  show  me  things  as  we  go  back,  can't 
you?" 

He  started  at  her  speech;  asked  himself  suddenly 
and  wildly  what  was  wrong  with  him.  A  better  open 
ing  for  his  crushing  announcement  could  not  have 
been  desired.  Yet  he  stood  dumb  as  a  man  of  stone. 
One  blurted  phrase  would  commit  him  irrevocably, 
but  his  lips  would  not  say  it.  And  he  was  glad. 

He  stared  over  the  water  thinking  desperately  what 
this  might  mean. 

In  that  first  meeting,  radiant  as  it  had  somehow 
seemed  to  him,  he  knew  that,  given  this  chance,  he 
could  have  carried  his  business  through  without  a 
quiver.  Even  last  night  when,  he  thought,  things  to 
make  it  harder  had  piled  one  on  another  like  Ossa  on 
Pelion,  it  would  not  have  been  impossible.  Now  his 
lips  appeared  sealed  by  a  new  and  overwhelming  re 
luctance  ;  a  resistless  weakness  saturated  him  through 
and  through,  seducing  his  will,  filching  away  his  very 
voice. 

The  Cypnani  rattled  and  wheezed,  and  her  speed 
sharply  slackened,  but  he  did  not  notice  it.  His  mind 
fastened  on  the  stark  fact  of  his  impotence  like  a  key  in 
a  lock:  his  heart  leapt  up  to  meet  it.  He  turned 
slowly  and  looked  at  her. 

She  leaned  lightly  upon  the  rail,  her  eyes  on  the 
water,  her  lashes  on  her  cheek  like  a  silken  veil.  At  her 
breast  nodded  his  favor,  the  Cypriani's  perfect  rose. 
In  her  youth,  her  beauty,  and,  most  of  all,  her  innocent 


CAPTIVATING  MARY  245 

helplessness,  there  was  something  indescribably  wist 
ful,  indescribably  compelling:  it  sprang  at  him  and 
possessed  him.  Even  in  permitting  him  her  acquaint 
ance,  she  had  trusted  him  far  past  what  he  had  any 
right  to  expect ;  and  now,  with  his  own  sickening  game 
at  the  touch,  she  gave  this  crowning  proof  of  confi 
dence  in  him  —  dashing  it  full  in  the  face  of  the  whis 
pering  and  hinting  Higginson,  full  in  his  own  face  too. 
Could  anything  in  all  the  world  matter  beside  the  fact 
that  this  girl  believed  in  him,  that  she  had  trusted 
him  not  only  against  convention,  not  only  against 
his  cowardly  enemy,  but  last  and  biggest,  against 
himself? 

And  she  should  not  be  disappointed.  His  pledge  to 
her  father  was  a  Jephthah's  oath,  honorable  only  in 
the  breaking.  His  mission,  all  his  hours  in  Hunston, 
took  changed  shape  before  the  eye  of  his  whirling 
mind,  monstrous,  accusing,  unbelievably  base.  Re 
ward  that  trust  with  treachery,  that  faith  with  be 
trayal  ?  Never  while  he  lived. 

Out  of  his  turmoil  came  peace  and  light,  flooding 
the  far  reaches  of  his  soul. 

In  crises  thought  moves  with  the  speed  of  light. 
The  young  man's  mental  revolution  was  over  and  done 
with  in  a  second's  time;  the  pause  was  infinitesimal. 
Almost  as  she  finished  her  last  remark,  Mr.  Carstairs's 
daughter  turned  from  the  rail  and  took  a  step  forward 
upon  the  deck,  as  though  to  jog  her  host  toward  that 
promised  tour  of  the  yacht  which  had  now  flagged  so 
long. 

"  I  thought  you  ought  to  know  this,"  she  was  saying, 


246       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

apparently  quite  unaware  of  his  descent  into  the  psy 
chological  deeps,  "  though  perhaps  you  will  think  it 
not  worth  repeating.  But  before  we  go  on,  do  tell  me 
—  won't  you?  —  is  Mr.  Higginson  merely  —  seeing 
things  —  a  sort  of  he-Cassandra,  you  know  —  or 
really  do  you  think  there  is  any  danger?  " 

"No!"  answered  Varney,  so  promptly  as  to  give 
the  air  of  having  waited  long  for  just  that  question. 
"  There  is  no  danger  now,  thank  God !  " 

A  heavy  step  sounded  near,  approaching.  Start 
ing  to  speak,  he  broke  off,  turned  and  saw  the  sailing- 
master  coming  towards  him.  Over  the  intervening 
stretch  of  deck  the  two  men  looked  at  each  other,  the 
master  nervously,  Varney  victoriously. 

It  was  one  of  those  critical  moments  whose  im 
portance  no  one  can  gauge  until  after  the  time  for 
guaging  is  past.  However,  as  it  fell  out,  it  was  the 
master  who  spoke  first. 

"  Very  sorry,  sir,  indeed,"  he  began,  with  a  curi 
ously  uneasy  and  hang-dog  expression.  "  The  gear  's 
broke  down  again  —  in  another  place.  Could  n't 
possibly  have  been  foreseen,  sir.  We  can  —  hem 
—  manage  to  beat  about  without  any  trouble,  but 
I  fear  it  would  not  be  safe  to  try  to  push  on  to  New 
York." 

"  To  New  York!  "  said  Mary  Carstairs,  looking  at 
Varney  and  laughing  at  the  man's  stupidity.  "  It  cer 
tainly  would  not  be  safe  at  all !  " 

Even  the  furtive-glancing  sailing-master  was  con 
scious  of  the  tide  of  gladness  that  had  broken  into  his 
young  master's  eyes. 


CAPTIVATING   MARY  247 

"Put  about  this  instant,  man!"  he  cried  imperi 
ously.  "  Miss  Carstairs  wishes  to  return  to  Hunston 
as  soon  as  possible." 

"  Right,  sir,"  stammered  the  astonished  Ferguson, 
backing  away.  "  At  once,  sir." 

Varney  met  the  man's  amazement  steadily,  laughed 
into  it,  and  so  turned  again  to  his  old  friend's  daugh 
ter.  She  was  conscious  of  thinking  that  this  was  the 
first  happy  smile  she  had  seen  on  his  face  since  the 
night  when  he  lit  the  lamp  at  Mr.  Stanhope's. 

"  He  seemed  nearly  stupefied  because  you  were  n't 
going  to  scold  him,  did  you  notice?  I  wonder  if  you 
are  usually  very  cross  with  him.  But  on  with  our 
sightseeing!  What  is  the  name  of  this  such-and-such 
a  kind  of  steam-yacht?" 

"  Miss  Carstairs,"  said  Varney,  struggling  against 
his  sudden  exaltation  for  calmness  and  self-control  — 
"  we  are  both  conscious  that  I  owe  you  an  explanation 
for  — •  for  what  of  course  you  must  think  my  very 
extraordinary  behavior.  Believe  me,  you  shall  have  it 
very  soon.  There  is  nothing  in  the  wide  world  —  ah 
-  that  is,  I  'd  like  very  much  to  give  it  to  you  now. 
But  — •  no,  no  —  it  would  n't  be  quite  right  —  no  — 
not  fair  —  " 

"  You  think  I  am  eaten  up  with  feminine  curiosity 
about  Mr.  Higginson !  "  she  said,  a  little  hastily.  "  Oh, 
I  '11  show  you.  Look !  Look !  We  're  turning  around 
already." 

"  Don't  look  there.  Look  in  this  general  direction 
now  and  then,  and  tell  me  what  you  see." 

"  I   see,"   she  said,   looking  anywhere  but  at  him, 


248       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  the  strangest,  the  most  volatile  and  —  not  excepting 
Mr.  Higginson  —  the  most  mysterious  man  in  Hollas- 
ton  County !  " 

"Where  are  your  eyes,  Miss  Carstairs?  You  are 
standing  within  two  feet  of  the  happiest  man  in  Amer 
ica,  and  you  don't  even  know  it." 


CHAPTER    XIX 

IN   WHICH    MR.    HIGGINSON    AND   THE   SAILING-MASTER 
BOTH    MERIT   PUNISHMENT,   AND   BOTH   ESCAPE  IT 

Passing  the  town-wharf  laggingly  like  the  maimed 
thing  she  was,  limping  nearer  and  nearer  the  spot 
whence  she  had  set  out  three-quarters  of  an  hour  be 
fore,  Mr.  Carstairs's  Cypriani  slowed  down  at  an  aban 
doned  private  landing  —  the  same  one  by  which  Peter's 
trunk  had  been  conveyed  ashore  that  morning  —  and 
ran  out  her  stairs. 

As  the  two  on  board  stood  watching  the  yacht  make 
fast,  conversing,  if  the  truth  be  known,  somewhat  dis- 
jointeclly,  they  were  astonished  to  see  the  great  form 
of  a  man  rise  from  a  grassy  bed  a  little  way  back  from 
the  river-bank  and  advance  towards  them. 

"Why,  look!"  said  Mary.  "There's  Mr.  Magin- 
nis!  I  thought  he'd  gone  to  town  long  ago." 

Varney  did  not  answer  her.  His  eyes  were  glued 
upon  Maginnis,  and  he  called  in  a  strange  voice : 

"  You  have  been  waiting  for  us." 

"  Haven't  budged  a  step,"  answered  Peter,  moving 
out  upon  the  landing.  And  he  added  what  seemed  an 
odd  remark  to  Miss  Carstairs :  "  I  knew  you  were 
coming  back." 

He  greeted  Mary  at  the  foot  of  th.e  stairs,  cordially, 
and  begged  the  privilege  of  escorting  her  to  any  des~ 


25o       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

tination  it  might  be  her  fancy  to  name.  But  she  stoutly 
declined  his  good  offices,  as  she  had  Varney's  a  moment 
before,  declaring  that  she  could  not  think  of  troubling 
so  busy  and  important  a  man. 

"  But  where  did  you  spirit  Mr.  Hare  off  to,  if  I 
might  ask?"  she  said. 

"  On  a  very  important  mission  I  assure  you,  madam, 

-  that  is,  Miss  Carstairs,"  said  Peter,  diplomatically, 

having  no  idea  how  matters  stood.     "  He  begged  me 

to  let  him  go  back  and  say  good-bye  to  you,  but  I  told 

him  I  'd  make  it  a  personal  matter." 

"  I  am  awfully  glad  that  you  have  stopped  calling 
me  '  madam,'  '  said  Mary,  rather  inconsecjuently. 
"I  did  hate  it  so!" 

And  she  walked  off  up  the  woodland  path,  swinging 
her  recovered  parasol,  and  rinding  herself  with  a  good 
deal  to  think  about. 

Peter,  coming  on  deck,  found  his  friend  waiting  for 
him,  taut  as  a  whipcord. 

"  Well,  old  horse !  "  said  Maginnis.  "  Welcome 
back  to  jolly  little  Hunston." 

"  The  machinery  broke  down  on  me,"  said  Varney, 
turning  away  to  light  a  cigarette. 

"  Sure,"  said  Peter  cheerfully.  "  You  knew  it  was 
going  to  do  it  when  you  started.  I  read  it  in  your  eye 
when  we  said  farewell  forever." 

"  You  are  quite  mistaken,"  said  Varney.  "  Ask 
Ferguson." 

"  Oh !  Then  you  '11  do  it  to-morrow  morning,  when 
the  machinery  is  all  right  again  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Varney,  "  nor  at  any  other  time." 


PUNISHMENT   MERITED   AND   ESCAPED     251 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other  steadily,  unwink- 
ingly.  As  the  look  lengthened,  each  face  gave  way  to  a 
slow  reluctant  smile. 

"  I  won't  pretend,"  said  Peter,  "  that  I  am  disap 
pointed  in  you.  I  never  dreamed  that  I  hated  this 
thing  till  the  time  came,  and  hang  me  if  I  don't  rather 
like  that  little  girl." 

"  It  was  a  thing,"  said  Varney,  "  that  simply 
could  n't  be  done.  We  were  a  pair  of  asses  not  to  see 
that  all  along."  He  glanced  hurriedly  at  his  watch  and 
started  for  the  companionway.  "  Jove !  I  '11  have  to 
hustle." 

"  Hustle !     Where  the  devil  to?  " 

"  I  'm  off  to  New  York  by  the  five  o'clock  train  to 
tell  Uncle  Elbert  that  I  've  resigned.  I  '11  feel  mighty 
mean  doing  it,  too." 

"  Well,  don't  anticipate  trouble,"  called  Peter  dryly. 
"  You  can't  feel  mean  by  the  five  o'clock  train,  however 
much  you  may  deserve  —  " 

"Why  not?" 

"  There  is  n't  any.  She  goes  through  at  four-seven. 
You  '11  have  to  compose  yourself  to  wait  till  eight-ten, 
unless  you  want  to  walk." 

Varney  halted  at  the  head  of  the  companionway, 
surprisingly  disappointed.  From  the  moment  when 
the  Cypriani  had  put  about,  he  had  been  insistently 
conscious  that  his  first  duty  now  was  to  see  Mr.  Car- 
stairs,  beg  absolution  from  his  promise,  and  formally 
surrender  his  commission.  So  only,  he  had  felt,  could 
he  go  on  with  clean  hands. 

"  Well,   don't  look  so  glum  over   it,"   said   Peter. 


252       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  You  're  not  any  sorrier  about  your  prolonged  stay 
in  our  midst  than  I  am." 

Varney  turned  an  inquiring  eye  upon  him,  and  he 
began  walking  rather  restlessly  up  and  down  the  deck. 

"  Oh,  this  same  old  rot !  "  he  broke  out  impatiently. 
"  I  '11  never  be  easy  in  my  mind  till  you  are  back  in 
New  York,  and  stay  there  — 

"  Well,  well,  Peter !  Stick  it  out  for  three  hours 
more  —  " 

"  Not  long  after  you  and  Miss  Carstairs  steamed 
off,"  continued  Peter,  "  Hare  blew  back  down  here, 
tired  of  waiting  and  a  little  excited.  He  had  just  heard 
some  passing  whispers  about  you  and  me.  He  says 
there  seems  to  be  a  little  suppressed  excitement  in  town 
this  afternoon." 

"  Why,  I  thought  your  paper  had  kicked  all  that 
nonsense  into  a  cocked  hat." 

"  A  lot  of  people  don't  believe  the  paper,  though," 
said  Peter.  "  On  the  contrary  they  believe  that  you  are 
Stanhope  and  that  you  bought  the  Gazette  to  disown 
yourself  and  save  your  hide.  A  foolish  idea,  but  it 
has  doubtless  been  helped  out  by  whispers  from  higher 
up.  Smith's  selling  out  has  made  Ryan  see  red. 
Smith  's  still  in  town,  by  the  way,  which  argues  a  good 
deal  of  cool  nerve  on  his  part.  Hare  hears  that  Ryan 
is  in  a  murdering  humor  — 

"  You  seem  to  forget  entirely  that  Stanhope  —  the 
real,  the  genuine,  double-extry-guaranteed  —  has  ap 
peared,  to  bear  his  own  — 

"  But  Hunston  does  n't  know  it  yet !  "  exclaimed 
Peter.  "  Kindly  get  that  well  into  your  head.  All 


PUNISHMENT  MERITED   AND   ESCAPED     253 

these  Hackleys  and  Orricks  still  think  that  you  're  their 
meat  —  Where  're  you  going?  " 

Varney,  pausing  at  the  hatch,  deliberated  whether 
he  should  say  anything  to  Peter  about  Mr.  Higginson's 
latest  and  most  daring  intrusion,  and  declared  for  the 
negative.  "  There  's  no  reason,"  he  mused,  "  why  I 
should  let  him  in  on  this.  And  besides  — 

"  To  town,"  he  said  aloud.  "  I  Ve  got  to  send  a 
telegram  to  Uncle  Elbert.  He  's  very  much  on  my 
conscience  —  poor  old  chap!" 

"  I  '11  go  with  you.  Got  a  Reform  Committee  meet 
ing  at  five-thirty.  And  some  other  business." 

But  Varney  had  already  disappeared  below.  Peter 
picked  up  his  splendid  guitar  and,  sprawling  upon  the 
transom,  gave  himself  up  to  soft  humming  and,  pres 
ently,  to  the  work  of  composition.  Soon,  after  some 
little  painstaking  effort,  he  produced  the  following,  to 
be  rendered  to  the  tune  of  "  Yankee  Doodle  " : 

The  tale  of  crime  is  at  an  end, 

For  little  Laurence  Va-arney 
Declines  to  swipe  his  loidy  friend 

Upon  the  Cypria-a-ani\ 

Peter  tried  this  over  to  himself  with  considerable 
satisfaction.  He  possessed  a  remarkably  sweet  tenor 
and  pleasurably  anticipated  singing  his  ditty  to  its 
hero,  and  doubtless  getting  a  cushion  pitched  at  his 
head  for  his  pains.  But  it  happened  that  Varney  was 
to  go  to  his  grave  without  ever  hearing  that  small 
chanson. 

He  came  on  deck  again  in  five  minutes  with  a  face 


254        CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

which  drove  all  thoughts  of  melody  from  Peter's  head. 
In  fact,  at  sight  of  it,  he  came  instantly  to  a  sitting 
position  and  his  guitar  slid  unheeded  to  the  floor. 

"What's  happened?" 

Varney  did  not  answer  immediately.  He  stood  at 
the  rail  and  stared  into  the  woods  with  fixed  eyes  which 
saw  nothing.  Peter  rose  and  came  towards  him. 

"  Out  with  it !  "  he  said  encouragingly.  "  I  'm  full 
partner  here.  You  want  to  murder  somebody.  Wei) 
and  good !  Now  who  is  it  ?  " 

Varney  turned  towards  him,  half -reluctantly,  and 
spoke  in  a  quiet  voice. 

"  I  told  you  just  now7  that  the  machinery  broke 
dowrn.  I  was  mistaken.  It  was  broken  down." 

"Broken  down?" 

"  When  I  went  below,"  continued  the  younger  man, 
"  it  occurred  to  me  to  look  in  the  engine-room  and  see 
how  bad  the  damage  was.  It  was  very  bad  indeed. 
I  'm  no  mechanic,  Lord  knows,  but  a  child  could  make 
no  mistake  here.  The  effect  is  about  as  if  somebody 
had  jammed  a  crowbar  in  the  works  while  she  was  run 
ning  full-tilt.  Probably  that  is  just  what  somebody 
did.  It  '11  be  some  days  before  she  '11  run  again." 

Peter's  bewilderment  deepened.  "  What  in  the 
world  does  this  mean?  " 

'  Treachery,"  said  Varney  calmly.  "  Somebody  on 
board  has  been  bought." 

The  two  men  stared  at  each  other.  Varney  read  on 
Peter's  face  the  swift  unfolding  of  precisely  his  own 
thought.  He  was  rather  surprised  at  Peter's  quick 
ness,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  he  knew  nothing  of  the 
episode  of  the  morning. 


PUNISHMENT   MERITED   AND    ESCAPED     255 

"  Yes,"  he  said.     "  That 's  the  man." 

He  told  concisely  of  Mr.  Higginson's  attempt  to 
break  up  the  lunch-party  by  keeping  the  guest  of  honor 
away.  Peter's  face,  as  he  listened,  underwent  a  curi 
ous  change.  It  first  slowly  gained  color,  then  slowly 
lost  it;  and  all  of  it,  from  the  top  of  his  forehead  to 
the  end  of  his  chin,  seemed  subtly  to  contract  and 
tighten  up. 

His  comment  at  the  end  was :  "  Excuse  me  a 
minute." 

Upon  which  he  vanished  below  to  see  with  his  own 
eyes  and  judge  with  his  own  brain.  He  was  back  in 
less  than  two  minutes,  with  a  tiny  spot  of  red  in  the 
corner  of  his  eye,  and  his  manner  unwontedly  calm. 

"  You  're  right.  Pretty  clumsy  treachery  that,"  he 
said,  standing  and  staring  at  Varney,  who  had  dropped 
into  a  chair.  "  What  was  the  man  thinking  about  to 
...  I  don't  begin  to  see  bottom  on  this." 

Varney's  eyes  were  on  the  sailing-master,  who  sat 
far  forward,  feet  on  the  rail,  apparently  engrossed  in  a 
magazine.  The  young  man  had  just  recalled  the 
master's  curious  manner  when  he  notified  him  of  the 
accident  to  the  machinery. 

"Larry  —  you  meant  to  turn  around  anyway?" 

"  But  Higginson,  you  see,  could  n't  predict  that." 

"The  immediate  cause  of  your  turning — " 

"  Was  the  little  mishap  to  our  gear." 

He  raised  his  voice :  "  Ferguson !  I  'd  like  a  word 
with  you  if  you  please." 

The  sailing-master  jumped  at  the  sound  of  the  voice 
as  though  it  had  shot  a  projectile  into  his  back.  How- 


256       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

ever,  he  rose  at  once  and  came  forward  in  his  usual, 
brisk,  stiff  way,  halting  before  the  two  men  with  a 
salute.  Varney  eyed  him  inscrutably. 

"  I  believe  you  \vere  in  town  for  a  while  this  morn 
ing,  Ferguson  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  I  was." 

"  While  there  did  you  chance  to  see  anything  of  an 
elderly  gentleman,  a  stranger  here,  by  the  name  of 
Higginson?  " 

Though  he  had  the  look  of  being  braced  for  trouble, 
the  man  changed  color  at  the  direct  question,  and  his 
eyes  instantly  shifted.  With  an  evident  effort  he  re 
captured  something  like  his  usual  steadiness  and  spoke 
in  a  voice  of  elaborate  thought  fulness. 

"Higginson?  No,  sir.  I  know  no  one  of  that 
name." 

"  Ah  ?  I  thought  not.  I  asked  on  the  mere  chance. 
And  oh,  Ferguson." 

"Sir?" 

"  I  have  just  been  down  to  look  at  the  damaged 
machinery.  Ignorant  of  these  matters  myself,  I  can 
naturally  make  little  of  it.  You  will  prepare  a  written 
report  for  Mr.  Carstairs,  explaining  in  detail  the  nature 
of  the  accident,  and  in  particular  just  how  it  took 
place." 

"  Very  good,  sir." 

"  And  —  oh,  Ferguson." 

"Yes,  sir?" 

"  As  the  —  er  —  mishap  appears  to  be  so  serious, 
I  think  it  best  to  have  an  expert  from  town  advise  with 
me  before  the  work  of  repairing  begins.  You  will 


PUNISHMENT   MERITED   AND    ESCAPED     257 

therefore  leave  matters  just  as  they  are  until  I  instruct 
you  otherwise." 

"  Oh  —  very  good,  sir." 

Peter  turned  his  dissatisfied  eyes  from  the  back  of 
the  retreating  sailing-master  to  Varney. 

"What  better  proof  d'you  want  than  the  rogue's 
face  ?  Why  did  n't  you  fire  him  on  the  spot  ?  " 

"  I  neither  hire  nor  fire  here,"  said  Varney.  "  These 
are  Mr.  Carstairs's  employees.  He  will  have  to  deal 
with  them  as  he  thinks  best." 

He  rose  immediately  and  put  on  his  hat. 

"  With  Mr.  Higginson,  however,"  he  mused,  start 
ing  for  the  stair,  "  the  case  is  altogether  different." 

"  Exactly,"  said  Peter  with  great  heartiness. 

As  one  man  they  descended  the  stairs,  crossed  the 
battered  landing  and  struck  rapidly  up  the  woodland 
path  for  Remsen  Street  and  the  town.  As  they 
walked,  Varney  silently  condemned  the  unfailing 
genius  of  the  Irish  for  intruding  themselves  into  all 
the  trouble  that  hove  upon  the  horizon.  It  was  with 
acute  pleasure  that  he  recalled,  before  long,  his 
friend's  engagement  for  half -past  five.  For  he  him 
self  had  but  three  hours  left  in  Hunston  that  day,  and 
he  had  an  urgent  use  for  them  —  beyond  even  Mr. 
Higginson. 

"  I  confess  once  more,"  said  Peter,  tramping  heav 
ily,  "  that  this  chap  is  too  many  for  me.  I  don't  seem 
to  grasp  his  game." 

"  And  you  call  yourself  a  conspirator,  Peter !  Why, 
this  is  A  B  C." 

"  All  right.     I  'm  listening.     Spell  it  out  for  me." 

17 


258       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  Suppose  the  gang  here  is  deep  enough,  as  you 
think,  to  plan  a  little  rough-house,  ostensibly  for  my 
benefit,  but  really  to  get  you  into  it  and  thus  wipe  you 
out.  Does  n't  it  occur  to  you  that  my  fading  away  to 
New  York  at  the  critical  moment  would  rather  knock 
the  bottom  out  of  the  scheme?  Why,  it 's  as  clear  as 
noonday!  Higginson,  learning  somehow  that  I  ex 
pected  to  fly  off  immediately  after  the  lunch-party, 
first  tries  to  break  up  the  party,  and  failing  that,  he 
bribes  Ferguson  to  break  up  the  machinery.  Thus  he 
hopes  to  make  it  impossible  for  me  to  get  away  —  me 
whom  he  needs  in  his  business  as  the  red  rag  for  hi? 
little  old  mob." 

They  had  emerged  from  the  woods  and  walked  a 
block  up  Remsen  Street  before  Peter  replied. 

"  By  Jove !  That  does  seem  to  explain  everything ! 
That's  it!  It's  Higginson,  not  Smith,  who  has  been 
pulling  all  these  wires  from  the  beginning.  I  suspected 
the  man  the  first  minute  I  ever  clapped  eyes  on  him. 
But  where  do  you  suppose  he  got  his  hint  ?  " 

"Hammerton?" 

"  Never.  That  boy  is  trustworthy,  or  I  '11  eat  my 
hat." 

"  Well,  I  think  so  too.  Then  he  simply  corrupted 
Ferguson  and  wormed  the  whole  thing  out  of  him. 
Pretty  clever,  the  whole  thing,  was  n't  it  ?  How  much 
Ferguson  may  really  know,  or  suspect,  I  have  no  idea. 
Of  course,  there  is  only  one  thing  to  fear  now,  and  that 
is  scareheads  in  the  New  York  papers  to-morrow  —  at 
tempted  kidnapping  foiled,  and  so  on.  It  would  break 
Uncle  Elbert's  heart  if  anything  of  that  sort  should 
come  out  —  " 


PUNISHMENT   MERITED   AND   ESCAPED     259 

"  Don't  you  worry.  It  won't.  I  '11  close  his  trap  — 
tight." 

Once  more  Varney  was  slightly  annoyed  by  Peter's 
presence. 

"  If  we  find  him,"  he  began,  as  they  came  to  the 
square,  "  you  —  " 

"  We  must  try  not  to  be  brutal,  Larry,"  warned 
Peter  soberly.  "  I  remind  myself  that  he  is  an  elderly 
man  — 

"  If  we  find  him,"  began  Varney  again,  "  you  will 
please  remember  that  he  belongs  to  me.  Higginson  is 
strictly  my  pickings." 

Peter  grunted,  looking  rather  annoyed  too. 

They  crossed  the  square,  two  determined-looking 
men,  and  entered  the  Palace  Hotel.  Behind  the  desk 
a  bored  clerk  sat  paring  his  nails  with  a  pair  of  office 
scissors.  He  looked  up  with  a  certain  resentfulness. 

"  Excuse  my  interruption,"  said  Varney.  "  Is  Mr. 
Higginson  in?  " 

The  clerk's  glance  lowered  tiredly.  "  Naw.  Left 
town  on  the  four-seven." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Peter  instantly. 

There  followed  a  silence.  So  stern  were  the  gazes 
fastened  upon  the  clerk  that,  looking  hastily  up  at 
Peter's  word,  he  promptly  lost  something  of  his  lordly 
demeanor  and  became  for  the  moment  almost  human. 

"  Well,  sir,  he  's  left  us.  Said  he  was  takin'  the 
four-seven." 

"  Where  did  he  go?  "  demanded  Varney. 

"  Don't  know,  sir,  but  I  think  to  New  York." 

14  You  must  know  where  he  checked  his  baggage  to." 


260       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  Did  n't  have  any  baggage,  sir,"  protested  the 
clerk.  "  Only  his  suit-case." 

"  Did  he  leave  no  address  for  the  forwarding  of 
his  mail?  " 

"  Naw,  sir.    He  did  not." 

"Of  course  not.  Why  on  earth  should  he?"  said 
Peter. 

Desisting  from  the  absent  but  fierce  stare  with  which 
he  was  transfixing  the  clerk,  he  drew  Varney  hurriedly 
aside. 

"  All  bluff !  "  he  stated  positively.  "  Is  it  likely,  after 
his  day's  work,  that  he  'd  be  lolling  around  the  lobby 
waiting  for  us  to  call?  He  's  moved!  But  depend  on 
it,  he  's  got  more  work  to  do,  and  he  has  n't  left  town!  " 

"If  that 's  so,  where  do  you  recommend  looking?  " 

Peter  made  a  large  gesture.  "  That 's  a  horse  of 
another  color.  I  told  you  he  had  a  faculty  for  disap 
pearing  into  a  hole  and  pulling  the  hole  in  after  him. 
If  anybody  besides  Ryan  knows  where  he  is,  I  should 
say  that  it  might  be  Miss  Carstairs.  She  seems  to  be 
his  only  friend  on  our  side  of  the  fence,  since  I  tipped 
Hare  off." 

Varney  all  but  jumped.  "  I  '11  ask  her !  "  he  offered 
almost  precipitately.  "  The  very  thing !  " 

"  It  is  quite  possible,"  continued  Peter,  tensely 
thoughtful,  "  that  the  old  rascal  has  sneaked  to  her 
since  the  luncheon,  to  try  to  pump  something  out  of  her 
about  our  movements  —  even  within  the  bounds  of 
possibility  that  he  is  with  her  at  this  moment  — 

"  A  great  suggestion !  "  said  Varney  cordially.  "  You 
certainly  have  a  head  on  you,  Peter.  Of  course,  on 


PUNISHMENT   MERITED    AND   ESCAPED     261 

the  other  hand,  it  is  quite  possible  that  he  has  skipped 
—  made  a  bee-line  for  Newspaper  Row.  In  that  case, 
I'll  see  if  she  —  Miss  Carstairs,  you  know  —  if  she 
knows  his  address  in  New  York,  and  I  '11  hunt  him  up 
to-night." 

Peter,  glancing  at  his  watch,  discovered  that  he  was 
already  fifteen  minutes  late  for  his  committee  meeting. 

"  For  this  afternoon,  then,"  he  said,  unwillingly, 
"  you  can  have  him,  if  you  can  find  him.  After  to-day, 
though,  he  belongs  to  me.  Wherever  he  is  now,  he  '11 
certainly  be  back  on  the  job  to-morrow.  Well  —  I  '11 
leave  you,  then.  Er  —  Larry.  It 's  just  as  well  not 
to  be  prowling  around  after  dark  by  yourself,  you 
know.  I  '11  be  back  at  the  yacht  early  and  we  '11  have 
dinner  together  before  your  train.  Say  six-thirty, 
eh?" 

"  1  '11  be  there." 

Peter  hurried  off  for  Hare's  house  with  a  mingled 
sense  of  unjustly  baffled  vengeance  and  vague  uneasi 
ness.  Varney,  drawing  a  long  breath  of  relief,  headed 
for  the  telegraph  office,  whence  he  dispatched  the  fol 
lowing  telegram  to  Mr.  Carstairs : 

"  Plan  permanently  abandoned.  Arrive  in  New  York 
by  train  9.20  to-night.  Expect  me  ten  minutes  later." 

That  done,  he  started  rapidly  down  Remsen  Street 
with  a  steadily  mounting  spirit. 


CHAPTER    XX 

VARNEY,     HAVING    EMBARKED    UPON     A     CRIME,     FINDS 
OUT    THAT    THERE    IS    A    PRICE    TO    PAY 

There  was  a  fine  old  hedge  of  box  bordering  the 
Carstairs  lawn,  old  rosebushes  inside  it  and  many 
flowering  shrubs.  Splendid  oaks  curtained  the  big 
white  house  on  either  side,  shading  the  expanse  of 
close-clipped  turf.  At  the  left,  a  fountain-sprayer  now 
whirled  a  mist  of  water  over  the  trim  grass,  and  far 
to  the  rear  a  man  in  rubber  boots  was  hosing  off  a 
phaeton  before  a  carriage  house.  On  the  back  porch, 
an  elderly  cook  was  peeling  potatoes  and  gently  croon 
ing  some  old  ballad  of  Erin. 

It  was  a  serene  and  reassuring  scene.  Yet  upon  the 
spacious  piazza,  which  undeniably  contributed  to  the 
pervading  air  of  all 's  well,  the  stunning  informa 
tion  came  to  Varney  that  the  lady  of  his  quest  was 
not  at  home.  Nor  could  the  maid  at  the  door  say 
where  her  young  mistress  had  gone,  or  with  whom, 
or  when  she  would  return.  Possibly  Airs.  Carstairs 
knew,  but  Mrs.  Carstairs  was  unwell  and  could  not  be 
disturbed.  Miss  Carstairs  would  be  sorry  to  miss  him, 
the  kind-hearted  girl  opined,  and  would  he  please  leave 
his  name? 

The  young  man  descended  the  steps  in  a  state  of 
the  flattest  depression.  Disappointment,  he  reflected 


VARNEY   HAS   TO   PAY   A   PRICE        263 

bitterly,  crowded  upon  the  heels  of  disappointment  on 
this  anticlimactic  afternoon  which  yet  should  have  been, 
in  a  bigger  sense,  so  gloriously  climactic.  He  had 
missed  his  train,  and  with  it  his  honorable  confession 
to  Mr.  Carstairs ;  missed  Higginson ;  last  and  worst  of 
all  —  it  seemed  to  him  now  that  this  was  all  that  mat 
tered  in  the  least  —  he  had  missed  Miss  Carstairs.  In 
sooth,  the  world  was  all  awry. 

But  at  the  gate,  a  thought  came  to  him,  radiant  as 
a  heavenly  messenger.  Miss  Carstairs  was  at  her 
seamstress's  on  the  Remsen  road.  Had  she  not  told 
him  with  her  own  lips  that  she  \vas  to  be  there  at  this 
hour  ? 

He  made  a  Te  Deutn  of  the  click  of  the  gate,  and 
turned  northward  a  face  which  bore  record  of  an  inner 
splendor. 

He  had  set  out  to  see  Miss  Carstairs  in  order  to  ask 
of  her  if  she  knew  the  whereabouts,  in  Hunston  or  New 
York,  of  the  fair-spoken  yet  elusive  Higginson.  But 
with  every  step  he  found  the  force  of  this  errand 
weakening  within  him.  The  memory  of  that  gentle 
man's  villany,  so  burning  a  moment  since,  grew  steadily 
fainter  and  more  inconsequential.  Failing  to  locate 
him,  he  would  of  course  make  a  precautionary  round 
of  the  newspaper  offices  in  New  York  that  night.  At 
the  worst,  he  told  himself  with  the  swift  fading  of  his 
anger,  there  was  only  a  remote  risk  of  any  unpleasant 
aftermath.  Why,  the  thing  was  over  and  done  with  - 
let  by-gones  be  by-gones.  As  for  those  other  matters 
supposed  to  be  upon  his  mind  —  hints  of  approaching 
trouble  for  himself,  and  the  knowledge  of  Mr.  Car- 


264       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

stairs's  bitter  disappointment  over  the  collapse  of  his 
all  but  triumphant  scheme  —  he  could  not  for  the  life 
of  him  give  them  any  attention  whatever. 

A  far  nearer  and  more  vital  matter  was  pressing 
upon  his  mind  and  heart. 

To  tell  her  everything  at  the  moment  when  the  yacht 
had  swung  back  and  he  had  thrown  up  his  commission 
forever  had  been  his  first  strong  impulse.  He  had 
crushed  it  down  only  because  he  saw  that  to  speak  then 
was  to  take  her  at  an  ungenerous  disadvantage.  Now 
Fortune  had  sent  him  this  new  meeting,  to  be  untram- 
meled  by  any  such  restraints.  No  grim  duty  governed 
his  movements  now;  no  consciousness  of  secret  chi 
canery  any  longer  enfolded  him  like  a  pall.  Already 
the  thought  of  what  he  had  meant  to  do  came  back  to 
him  hazily,  like  the  plot  of  a  half-forgotten  play.  The 
hobgoblins  in  a  nightmare  seemed  not  more  unreal  to 
him  now.  His  heart  sang  with  the  knowledge  that  he 
was  to  see  her  again,  this  time  with  no  shadow  between. 

Two  nights'  rain  had  left  the  road  dustless:  it  was 
silent  and  empty.  All  about  him  fell  the  pleasant 
evening  noises  of  the  wood,  but  he  did  not  hear  them. 
As  he  walked,  his  mind  was  rehearsing  the  whole  story 
of  his  coming  to  Hunston,  as  he  was  now  free  to  con 
fess  it  to  Uncle  Elbert's  daughter.  That  she  would 
forgive  him  he  never  entertained  a  doubt.  For  he 
would  throw  himself  wholly  on  her  mercy  —  telling 
her  everything,  painting  himself  as  blackly  as  he  could 
—  and  suing  for  pardon  only  because  he  had  failed. 

But  when  suddenly  he  saw  her,  sooner  than  he  had 
expected,  his  polished  and  elaborate  phrases  dropped 


VARNEY   HAS   TO   PAY   A   PRICE        265 

from  his  mind  as  cleanly  as  had  the  recollection  of  the 
roguery  of  Higginson. 

It  was  at  that  hour  when  the  skies  remember  the  set 
sun  in  a  gold  and  pink  glow.  A  little  kink  in  the  road 
straightened  out  under  his  swift  feet,  and  a  small 
cottage  in  a  fair-sized  lawn  jumped  out  of  the  woods 
into  vision,  almost  upon  him.  On  the  small  square 
porch,  her  back  to  the  road,  stood  Miss  Carstairs,  talk 
ing  through  the  open  window  to  some  one  in  the  room 
beyond. 

Varney,  having  stopped  short  at  the  first  sudden  sight 
of  her,  walked  on  very  slowly.  Her  voice  came  to  him 
distinctly,  and  now  and  then  he  caught  scattering  words 
of  what  she  was  saying.  She  wore  her  blue  dress  of 
the  luncheon  and  the  hat  which  Mrs.  Marne,  and  others, 
had  so  admired ;  and  she  gave  him  the  odd  impression 
of  being  somehow  older  than  she  had  ever  seemed 
before.  .  .  .  Yet  she  was  ten  years  his  junior  and 
three  days  ago,  at  this  very  hour,  he  had  never  so 
much  as  laid  eyes  upon  her. 

"  I  '11  come  Saturday  morning,  then,"  she  was  saying, 
"  and  you  '11  certainly  have  them  ready  for  me,  won't 
you?  Good-bye." 

She  turned  from  the  window,  came  towards  the  steps. 
At  the  top  of  them,  she  saw  Varney  standing  at  the 
gate,  not  twenty  yards  away,  and  stopped  dead.  Then 
she  came  on  down  the  stairs,  down  the  graveled  walk 
towards  him. 

"  I  'm  going  away  at  eight  o'clock,"  he  began  with 
out  greeting,  striving  to  make  his  voice  casual.  "  I 
went  to  your  house  first  —  and  - 


266        CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  You  —  followed  me  here?  " 
'  Yes,"   he   said,   unsmiling.      "  I   had   to   see  you 
before  I  went  —  on  matters  of  business  —  and  — " 

She  was  nearer  to  him  now :  for  the  first  time  he 
could  see  her  eyes.  In  them  lay  a  faint  shadowiness 
like  the  memory  of  shed  tears ;  but  sweeping  over  that 
and  blotting  it  out  he  saw  a  look  which  struck  him 
like  a  blow. 

'  There  is  nothing  for  you  to  see  me  about,  I  think 
—  any  more,"  she  said  with  a  little  laugh.    "  The  game 
is  up  —  is  n't  that  what  they  say  in  melodrama  ?     My 
mother  has  told  me  all  about  it." 

'  Your  mother  has  told  you! "  he  echoed  stupidly, 
as  one  to  whom  the  \vords  conveyed  no  meaning. 

"  She  had  not  expected  to  see  me  so  soon  again, 
when  I  went  off  to  lunch  on  my  father's  yacht.  The 
surprise  was  a  little  too  much  for  her.  You  must  try 
to  forgive  her,"  said  Mary,  and  punctuated  the  obser 
vation  \vith  a  small,  final  bow.  "  Will  you  open  the 
gate  for  me?  " 

"  No,"  said  Varney,  pulling  himself  sharply  to 
gether.  "  Not  like  that." 

The  shock  of  her  voice  and  look,  even  more  than  her 
words,  had  been  stunning  in  their  first  unexpectedness. 
But  now  he  remembered,  with  infinite  relief,  that  of 
course  she  did  not  understand  the  matter  at  all;  of 
course  she  would  speak  and  look  very  differently  when 
he  had  made  his  explanation. 

'  You  think,"  Varney  said,  "  that  I  mind  your  know 
ing  about  our  poor  little  plot  —  that  I  am  found  out 
and  my  plans  are  all  upset?  How  on  earth  could  you 


VARNEY   HAS   TO   PAY  A   PRICE        267 

think  that  ?  Why,  that 's  all  like  something  in  another 
life.  Don't  you  know  what  my  being  here  at  this 
moment  means?  The  thing  is  all  over,  Miss  Carstairs 
—  all  past  and  done  with  an  hour  before  you  ever  saw 
your  mother.  I  gave  it  up  voluntarily.  When  the  time 
came,  just  now  on  the  yacht,  I  found  out  that  it  was 
impossible  —  unthinkable  —  I  could  n't  do  it.  The 
game  was  up  then.  That  is  one  thing  that  your  mother 
could  not  tell  you,  and  it  was  to  tell  you  this,  and  all 
the  rest  of  it,  that  I  followed  you  here." 

She  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the  gate,  hardly  an 
arm's  length  from  him,  looking  at  him ;  a  figure  so 
pretty,  so  dainty,  so  extremely  decorative  that  she 
seemed  incapable  of  giving  anything  but  pleasure.  But 
in  the  eyes  that  met  his  own  so  unwaveringly,  he  read 
at  once  the  contradiction  of  this. 

;'  Yes,  I  suppose  that  would  always  be  the  way, 
would  n't  it  ?  —  that  whenever  I  found  out,  you  were 
just  going  to  tell  me?  " 

If  she  had  searched  her  mind  for  a  way  to  strangle 
his  headlong  self-defence,  she  could  not  possibly  have 
done  it  more  effectually.  There  followed  a  horrible 
pause. 

"  You  mean  .  .  .  that  you  do  not  believe  me  ?  " 

"  In  the  little  while  that  I  have  known  you,  have  you 
given  me  much  reason  to?  " 

"  Can't  you  see  that  that  is  exactly  the  reason  I 
wanted  to  tell  you  all  the  truth  now?  " 

"  Why  did  you  wait  till  noiv?  Were  n't  there 
chances  to  tell  me  this  afternoon  on  my  father's  yacht? 
But  —  there  's  no  use  to  speak  of  all  this.  It  is  enough 
that  I  know  it  now." 


268       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

He  was  aware  that  her  voice  had  lost  that  hard  and 
polished  lightness  with  which  she  had  first  struck  at 
him ;  on  this  last  sentence,  he  thought  that  it  trembled 
a  little;  and  in  a  flash,  he  saw  the  whole  matter  from 
her  side  of  it,  and  for  the  moment  ceased  to  think 
about  himself. 

He  leaned  his  arms  upon  the  green  panel  of  the  gate 
and  looked  down  at  her. 

"  Don't  think  that  I  blame  you  for  not  taking  my 
word.  Probably  I  could  n't  expect  it.  We  can't  very 
well  argue  about  that.  .  .  .  And  of  course  I  have 
known  all  along  —  how  you  would  feel  about  me. 
when  you  found  out  what  I  came  here  to  do.  I  was 
ready  for  that  —  ready  for  you  to  be  angry.  But  I 
don't  seem  to  have  taken  it  in  that  you  would  be  ... 
hurt.  That  makes  it  a  good  deal  worse." 

She  made  no  reply.  She  had  lowered  her  heavy- 
fringed  eyes ;  her  slim,  gloved  hands  were  busily  furl 
ing  and  unfurling  her  white  parasol. 

"  There  is  nothing  in  this  that  need  hurt  you.  Believe 
me  in  this,  at  any  rate.  Only  three  people  are  concerned 
in  it.  You  will  have  no  doubt  of  your  mother.  That 
she  told  you  shows  how  impossible  it  was  to  her,  even 
with  Uncle  Elbert  wanting  you  so  much.  You  will  not 
mind  about  your  father  —  not  in  any  personal  way. 
He  is  a  stranger  to  you.  That  leaves  only  me." 

Still  she  said  nothing.  It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had 
never  looked  at  so  still  a  face. 

"  For  me,  I  might  make  you  angry  as  any  —  acquain 
tance  might  —  any  stranger.  But  that  is  all.  It  is  not 
.  as  if  we  had  been  friends." 


VARNEY   HAS   TO   PAY   A   PRICE       269 

She  raised  her  eyes,  and  the  look  in  them  seemed  to 
give  the  lie  to  every  word  he  had  said. 

"  What  do  you  call  a  friend  ?  Did  I  not  trust  you  — 
put  myself  in  your  power — fall  confidingly  in  with 
your  hateful  plot  —  after  I  had  been  plainly  warned  not 
to?  Oh,  if  I  had  only  listened  to  Mr.  Higginson,  I 
should  not  have  the  humiliation  of  remembering  that  — 
hour  on  the  yacht!  " 

The  name  stung  him  into  instant  recollection.  He 
stood  staring  at  her,  and  his  face  darkened. 

In  the  first  staggering  revelation  of  her  look,  his 
sub-conscious  mind  had  leapt  instantly  to  the  conclu 
sion  that  his  cunning  enemy,  having  found  out  his 
secret,  had  betrayed  it  to  Miss  Carstairs.  Her  first 
words  had  disposed  of  that.  It  was  the  tortured 
mother,  not  the  professional  sneak,  who  had  been 
before  him  with  his  explanation.  But  now  it  rushed 
over  him  that  he  had  an  infinitely  deeper  grudge  against 
the  vanished  spy.  For  it  was  Higginson,  with  his 
bribe-money,  who  had  broken  down  the  yacht;  Hig 
ginson  who  would,  in  any  case,  have  forced  the  return 
to  Hunston ;  Higginson  who  had  given  this  girl  the 
right  to  think,  as  she  did  think,  that  she  owed  her 
escape  wholly  to  an  "  accident  "  to  the  machinery. 

He  had  thought  that  he  had  saved  Uncle  Elbert's 
daughter  from  himself,  and  lo,  his  enemy  had  plucked 
the  honor  from  him.  The  world  should  not  be  big 
enough  for  this  man  to  elude  his  vengeance. 

"You  mention  Mr.  Higginson.     Where  is  he?" 

She  glanced  at  him,  impersonally,  struck  by  the 
unconscious  sternness  of  his  voice. 


2yo       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  I  do  not  know,  but  I  am  most  anxious  to  see  him 
—  to  thank  him  — " 

"  I  am  told  that  he  left  town  at  four  o'clock.  Per 
haps  you  know  his  address  in  New  York  ?  " 

"  I  do  not,"  she  answered  coldly.  "  No  doubt  he 
went  away  hurriedly  .  .  .  frightened  of  you  because 
of  his  kindness  to  me." 

She  came  a  step  forward  to  the  gate.  Instantly 
his  thought  veered  back  to  her  and  his  tense  face 
softened. 

"  How  can  I  blame  you,"  he  said  hurriedly,  "  for 
thinking  the  worst  of  me?  I  Ve  been  thinking  badly 
enough  of  myself,  God  knows.  But  don't  you  know, 
can't  you  imagine,  that  nothing  could  have  held  me  to 
the  miserable  business  a  single  moment  after  I  saw  you, 
had  I  not  been  bound  by  a  solemn  promise  to  your 
poor  father?  " 

"  My  father!  Oh,  if  he  is  the  sort  of  man  to  plot 
a  thing  like  this,  and  to  bludgeon  my  mother  into  it, 
how  could  you  endure  to  promise  to  do  it  for  him?  " 

"  Because  he  is  breaking  his  heart  for  you,  and  you 
did  n't  know  it.  It  seemed  right  that  he  should  see 
you,  since  he  wants  to  so  much." 

All  her  sense  of  the  wrong  he  had  done  her  flared 
up  in  anger  at  that.  "  How  do  you  —  dare  say  what 
seems  right  between  my  father  and  me  ?  He  is  break 
ing  his  heart  for  me,  he  told  you  ?  Did  he  mention  to 
you  that  she  had  broken  hers  for  him?  Don't  you 
suppose  that  I  have  had  time  —  and  reasons  —  to 
decide  which  of  them  I  belong  to?  " 

"  All  this,"  he  said,  "  was  before  I  knew  you." 


VARNEY   HAS   TO   PAY  A   PRICE       271 

About  them  hung  the  stillness  of  the  country  and 
the  long  empty  road.  The  woods  stirred ;  a  bird  called  ; 
a  portly  hare  poked  his  nose  through  the  brush  over  the 
way,  and  suddenly  scuttled  off,  his  white  flag  up.  In 
Mrs.  Thurston's  yard,  the  quiet  was  profound. 

"  All  his  life,"  said  Mary  Carstairs,  "  my  father  has 
thought  about  nothing  but  himself.  I  am  sorry  for 
him  —  but  he  must  take  the  consequences  of  that  now. 
If  he  is  lonely,  it  is  his  own  making.  If  my  mother 
has  been  lonely  till  it  has  almost  killed  her,  that  is  his 
doing,  too.  For  you  —  there  was  never  any  place  in 
this.  As  for  me,  I  owe  him  nothing.  He  must  beg 
my  mother's  forgiveness  before  he  shall  ever  get 
mine." 

She  came  forward  another  half -step  and  laid  her 
hand  upon  the  gate-latch  with  a  movement  whose  defi- 
niteness  did  not  escape  him. 

"  You  may  take  back  that  answer  from  me  if  you 
wish.  And  so,  good-bye." 

"  Not  good-bye,"  said  Varney,  instantly.  "  You 
must  not  say  that." 

"  I  am  quite  sure  that  I  have  nothing  else  left  to 
say." 

Her  eyes  went  past  him  over  the  gate,  out  into  the 
wood  beyond.  Dusk  was  falling  about  them ;  it  shaded 
her  face,  intangibly  altered  it,  made  it  for  the  moment 
almost  as  he  had  known  it  before.  She  looked  very 
young,  and  tired.  This  was  the  picture  of  her,  and  he 
knew  it  then  as  he  looked  at  her,  that  he  would  carry 
with  him  to  the  longest  day  he  lived. 

"  Is  it  nothing  to  you,"  he  cried  in  a  rush,  "  that 


272       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

when  the  time  came  I  couldn't  do  it?  The  yacht's 
breaking  down  had  nothing  in  the  world  to  do  with  it. 
I  had  already  decided  to  turn  back,  to  break  my 
promise.  That  the  —  accident  happened  just  then  was 
only  a  wretched  chance.  I  was  going  to  put  about  at 
that  moment." 

She  hesitated  almost  imperceptibly,  seemed  for  a 
brief  second  to  waver.  But  perhaps  she  dared  not 
let  herself  believe  him  now:  perhaps  the  strongest 
wish  of  her  heart  was  to  hurt  him  as  deeply  as  she 
could. 

"  To  say  the  least,"  she  said  with  a  little  deliberate 
movement  of  distaste,  "  your  coincidences  are  unfor 
tunate.  You  —  won't  mind  if  I  go  on  being  grateful 
to  the  —  gear?  ' 

Under  that  crowning  taunt,  his  self-restraint  snapped 
like  an  overstretched  bowstring. 

"  You  shall  not  say  that.  You  shall  not.  Miss 
Carstairs,  you  know  I  could  have  kept  you  on  the 
yacht  if  I  had  wanted  to.  You  know  how  I  gave  the 
order  to  put  about  and  bring  you  back  to  Hunston. 
Did  I  look  in  the  least  then  like  a  man  whose  hopes  and 
plans  had  been  ruined?  You  know  I  did  not.  You 
know  I  said  to  you  that  I  —  I  was  the  happiest  man  in 
America.  Will  you  tell  me  what  on  earth  that  could 
mean  —  except  that  I  had  decided  to  give  up  a  thing 
that  has  been  a  millstone  around  my  neck  ever  since  — 
I  met  you?  " 

She  made  no  reply,  did  not  look  at  him.  The  dusk 
shadowed  her  eyes ;  and  whether  her  silence  meant 
good  or  ill  he  could  not  tell. 


VARNEY   HAS   TO   PAY  A   PRICE       273 

"  You  cannot  answer,  you  see.  We  both  know  why. 
You  will  not  be  fair  to  me,  Miss  Carstairs.  It  is  that 
night  in  the  Academy  box-office  over  again.  Because 
I  had  to  deceive  you  once  —  not  for  my  own  sake  — 
you  will  not  look  at  the  plain  facts.  But  in  your 
heart  —  just  like  that  other  night  —  /  know  you  bc- 
lici'c-  me." 

Of  course  she  could  not  let  that  pass  now.  "  I  do 
not !  "  she  said.  "  I  do  not.  I  must  ask  you,  please, 
not  to  keep  me  here  any  longer." 

Varney's  face  went  a  shade  paler.  Arguing  about 
his  own  veracity  was  even  less  bearable  than  he  had 
thought;  his  manner  all  at  once  became  singularly 
quiet. 

'  The  merest  moment,  if  you  will.  I  can  prove 
what  I  say,"  he  answered  slowly,  "  but  of  course  I 
won't  do  that.  Y'ou  must  believe  what  /  say,  believe 
me.  Nothing  else  matters  but  that.  .  .  .  Don't  you 
know  that  it  took  a  very  strong  reason  to  make  me 
break  faith  with  my  old  friend,  your  father  —  to  make 
me  stand  here  begging  to  be  believed,  like  this?  You 
have  only  to  look  at  me,  I  think.  Don't  you  know  that 
I  could  n't  possibly  deceive  you  now  .  .  .  after  what 
has  happened  to  me?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  I  don't  under 
stand.  Don't  tell  me.  Nothing  has  happened  .  .  ." 

"  Everything  has  happened,"  he  said  still  more 
quietly.  "  I  've  fallen  crazily  in  love  with  you." 

She  did  not  lift  her  eyes ;  neither  moved  nor  spoke ; 
gave  no  sign  that  she  had  heard.  He  went  on  slowly : 

'  This  —  might  be  hard  to  believe,   except  that  it 

18 


274       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

must  be  so  easy  to  see.  I  've  known  you  less  than 
three  days,  and  I  never  wanted  to  —  even  like  you. 
My  one  idea  was  to  think  of  you  as  my  enemy.  That 
was  what  Maginnis  and  I  agreed  —  plotting  together 
like  a  pair  of  nihilists.  It  all  seems  so  preposterous 
now.  Everything  was  against  me  from  the  beginning. 
I  would  n't  face  it  till  to-day,  this  afternoon.  Then  it 
all  came  over  me  in  a  rush,  and,  of  course,  your  hap 
piness  became  a  great  deal  more  to  me  than  your 
father's.  So  we  turned  around,  and  it  was  then  that 
I  told  you  how  happy  I  was.  Did  n't  you  know  then 
what  I  meant?  Of  course  it  was  because  I  had  just 
found  out  .  .  .  how  you  were  the  one  person  in  the 
world  who  mattered  to  me." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  It  deepened,  grew  harder 
to  break.  Little  Jenny  Thurston,  watching  these  two 
through  an  upstairs  shutter,  marveled  what  adults 
found  to  say  to  each  other  in  these  interminable  col 
loquies.  A  young  cock-sparrow,  piqued  by  their  still 
ness,  alighted  on  the  fence  near  by  and  studied  them, 
eye  cocked  inquisitively. 

"Of  course,  I'm  not  —  asking  anything,"  said 
Varney.  "  About  this,  I  mean.  I  am  answered,  and 
over-ans\vered,  already.  But  ...  do  you  believe 
now  that  I  —  voluntarily  gave  it  up?" 

"  Oh,"  said  Mary,  "  you  —  you  must  not  ask  me 
that.  You  must  not  talk  to  me  like  this.  I  did  trust 
you  once  —  fully  —  when  you  were  almost  a  stranger ; 
last  night  —  and  then  this  afternoon  — 

"  Do  you  believe  me,"  said  Varney,  "  or  do  you 
not?" 


VARNEY   HAS   TO   PAY  A   PRICE        275 

Her  lower  lip  was  trembling  very  slightly,  and  she 
set  her  white  teeth  upon  it.  The  sudden  knowledge 
that  she  was  near  to  tears  terrified  her,  goaded  her  to 
lengths.  She  gathered  all  her  pride  of  opinion  and 
young  sense  of  wrong  and  frightened  feminine  instinct, 
for  a  final  desperate  stand;  and  so  flung  at  him  more 
passionately  than  she  knew :  "  How  many  times  must 
I  tell  you?  /  do  not!  I  do  not!  " 

Varney  gave  her  a  last  look,  stamping  her  face  upon 
his  mind,  and  took  a  step  backward  from  the  gate. 

"  Then,"  said  he  ...  "  this  is  good-bye,  indeed." 

Presently  Mary  raised  her  eyes.  He  had  turned 
southward,  toward  the  town,  but  at  a  pace  so  swift 
that  he  was  already  far  down  the  road.  A  jutting 
curve  came  soon,  and  lie  vanished  behind  it,  out  of 
her  sight. 

Dusk  was  falling  fast  on  the  wood  now.  The  green 
of  the  trees  deepened  and  blackened,  turning  into  a 
crooked  smudge  upon  the  sky-line.  The  road  fell 
between  them  like  a  long  gray  ribbon.  Nothing  \vas 
to  be  seen  upon  it ;  nothing  was  to  be'  heard  but  the 
rustle  of  the  early  night  wind  and  the  pleasant  sounds 
of  the  open  road. 

Varney's  mind  as  he  walked,  was  a  blank  white  wall. 
He  had  forgotten  Elbert  Carstairs,  forgotten  the  train 
he  was  to  take,  forgotten  even  the  unendurable  injury 
that  Higginson  had  put  upon  him.  His  one  blind 
instinct  had  been  to  get  away  as  quickly  and  completely 
as  possible.  But  now,  slowly,  it  was  borne  in  upon 
him  that  he  knew  this  road,  that  he  had  walked  it  once 
before  like  this,  at  the  end  of  the  day.  His  first  night 


276       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

in  Hunston  —  he  remembered  it  all  very  well.  It 
must  have  been  just  here  —  or  here  —  that  the  rain 
had  caught  him,  and  he  had  gone  on  to  meet  her. 

The  cottage  which  had  sheltered  them  that  night 
must  be  close  at  hand.  His  eyes,  which  had  been  upon 
the  ground,  lifted  and  went  off  down  the  road.  They 
fell  upon  the  dark  figure  of  a  man,  shuffling  slowly 
along  in  the  gloom,  not  twenty  yards  ahead  of  him. 

He  was  an  old  man,  shambling  and  gTay-whiskered, 
and  stooped  as  he  walked.  If  he  was  aware  that 
another  wayfarer  followed  close  behind,  he  gave  no 
sign.  Suddenly  he  stopped  short  with  a  feeble  excla 
mation,  and  began  peering  about  the  ground  at  his  feet. 
The  young  man  was  up  with  him  directly,  and  his 
vague  impression  of  recognition  suddenly  became  fitted 
to  a  name. 

"Orrick?" 

The  bowed  form  straightened  and  turned.  Through 
the  thickening  twilight  the  two  men  looked  at  each 
other. 

'  You  were  not  by  any  chance  waiting  for  rne?  " 

The  darkness  hid  old  Orrick's  eyes ;  he  shook  his 
head  slowly  a  number  of  times.  "  I  passed  you  when 
you  was  at  Miz  Thurston's,  sir.  I  can'  walk  fas'  like 
you  can."  And  he  bent  down  over  the  road  again. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  asked  Varney. 
"  Have  you  lost  something?  " 

"  Los'  my  luck-piece,"  said  the  other,  slowly,  not 
looking  up.  "  I  was  carryin'  it  in  my  hand  's  I  come 
along  an'  it  jounced  out.  A  1812  penny  it  was  an' 
vallyble." 


VARNEY   HAS   TO   PAY   A   PRICE        277 

He  cut  rather  a  pitiful  figure,  squatting  down  in  the 
dirt  and  squinting  about  with  short-sighted  old  eyes; 
and  Varney  felt  unaccountably  sorry  for  him. 

"  I  would  n'  los'  my  luck-piece  for  nothin'/'  he 
added,  dropping  to  his  knees.  "  I  'm  a  kind  of  a 
stoop'sitious  man,  an'  I  allus  was." 

"  Perhaps  I  can  help  you ;   my  eyes  are  good." 

He  went  back  a  step  or  two,  bending  down  and  scru 
tinizing  the  brown  earth.  Orrick,  presently  announcing 
that  the  coin  might  have  rolled,  made  a  slow  way 
across  the  road  on  his  knees,  patting  the  ground  with 
his  hand  as  he  moved.  Near  the  edge  of  it,  half  in  the 
woods,  lay  a  thick  piece  of  split  firewood,  long  as  a 
man's  arm  and  stouter.  The  knotted  old  fingers 
stealthily  closed  on  it. 

"  It  could  n't  have  rolled  far  on  this  soft  road," 
said  Varney  presently.  "  Just  where  do  you  think  you 
dropped  it?  " 

Sam  Orrick  rose  behind  his  stooping  figure  with  up 
raised  club,  a  blaze  of  triumph  in  his  sodden  old  eyes. 

"  There !  "  he  cried  with  a  senseless  laugh.  "  It 's 
there,  Stanhope !  " 

The  club  fell  with  a  thud ;  and  Varney,  meeting  it 
as  he  straightened  up,  toppled  over  like  a  log,  face 
downward. 

Old  Orrick  stared  down  at  the  prostrate  figure,  and 
presently  touched  it  with  his  tattered  foot.  It  did  not 
stir.  His  fierce  joy  died.  He  looked  about  him  appre 
hensively,  and  his  eye  fell  at  once  upon  a  dim-lit  cottage 
off  the  road  just  back  of  him.  His  cottage  —  how  had 
he  forgotten  that  ?  Was  that  dark  thing  —  a  man  — • 


278       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

standing  there  at  the  gate?  Suddenly  a  great  terror 
seized  the  old  man.  He  threw  his  stick  into  the  woods 
and  slunk  away,  toward  the  town.  A  loud  yell  from 
behind  brought  his  heart  to  his  throat,  and  he  broke 
into  a  wild,  lumbering  run. 


CHAPTER    XXI 

MR.    FERRIS  STANHOPE   MEETS   HIS  DOUBLE;     AND  LETS 
THE    DOUBLE    MEET    EVERYTHING    ELSE 

In  the  new-made  study  of  his  Remsen  road  cottage, 
Ferris  Stanhope,  Hunston's  returned  celebrity,  sat 
under  a  green-shaded  lamp  and  frowned  down  at  a 
sheaf  of  his  own  neat  manuscript.  Behind  him,  in  a 
corner,  books  and  various  knick-knacks  lay  spilled  over 
the  floor  around  an  open  trunk.  The  room  was,  in 
fact,  in  the  litter  incident  to  getting  to  rights.  But 
this  did  not  act  as  a  stay  on  the  great  man's  habit  of 
industry,  which  happened  to  be  of  the  most  per 
sistent  variety. 

The  study  blinds  were  drawn,  and  the  rest  of  the 
house  was  in  darkness.  The  author  noted  three  emen 
dations  upon  his  manuscript,  made  three  more.  Then, 
with  a  muttered  exclamation,  he  stripped  off  the  inter 
lined  sheet  altogether,  tore  it  into  shreds,  threw  the 
shreds  on  the  floor  and  reached  for  a  pad  of  white 
paper.  At  that  moment  he  became  aware  of  footsteps 
and  heavy  breathing  in  the  hall,  and  looked  up  inquir 
ingly. 

His  man-servant,  Henry,  was  standing  in  the  door 
way,  the  long  limp  body  of  a  man  in  his  arrns. 

Mr.  Stanhope  sprang  hurriedly  to  his  feet.     In  his 


280       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

face  the  servant  saw  that  same  odd  look  of  fleeting 
anxiety  which  he  had  noted  there  when  they  descended 
from  the  train  that  morning. 

"  In  the  name  of  heaven  —  what  have  you  there?  " 

"  Harskin'  your  pardon,  sir,"  gasped  Henry,  stag 
gering  into  the  room,  "  I  'm  honcertain  whether  'e  's 
kilt  or  not.  Struck  down  from  behind  by  an  old  codger 
with  long  'air  and  gray  whiskers.  Hi  was  at  the 
gate—" 

"  But  what  do  you  mean  by  hauling  the  carcass  in 
here?  Do  you  think  I  'm  running  a  private  morgue?  " 

Henry,  who  had  been  in  his  present  employment  a 
bare  month,  came  to  a  wobbly  pause,  surprised.  The 
body  grew  very  heavy  in  his  stout  arms.  Now  the 
man's  head  slid  off  Henry's  shoulder  and  tumbled 
backwards,  hanging  down  in  the  full  glow  of  the  lamp. 

"  Hi  thought,  sir  -  '  began  the  servant  with  pant 
ing  dignity. 

"  O  my  God !  "  said  the  author  suddenly. 

Henry,  who  had  not  had  a  look  at  his  burden,  mis 
understood. 

"  Ghastly  sight,  hain't'  it,  sir  —  that  bloody  gash  on 
'is  'ead?" 

"  Quick !  Put  him  on  the  sofa.  —  Now  some 
water." 

The  servant,  whose  limbs  wrere  numb  from  the  long 
carry,  obeyed  with  alacrity.  But  returning  hurriedly 
with  the  water,  he  was  met  at  the  door  by  his  perverse 
master,  who  took  the  glass  from  his  hands  with  the 
curt  announcement  that  that  would  do. 

Henry  looked  as  displeased  as  his  subservient  posi- 


STANHOPE   MEETS   HIS   DOUBLE       281 

tion  made  advisable.  "  Hif  you  please,  sir,  I  have 
quite  a  'and  with  the  hinjured  and  — " 

"  He  's  only  stunned,"  said  his  master  impatiently. 
"  I  '11  attend  to  him  myself." 

And  he  banged  the  door  in  the  servant's  face. 

The  man  lay  on  the  lounge  precisely  as  Henry  had 
happened  to  place  him,  his  averted  face  half  buried  in 
the  pillows.  Investigation  showed  that  he  had  no 
bloody  gash  on  his  head :  that  was  Henry's  imagination. 
There  did  not,  in  fact,  seem  to  be  a  mark  on  him  be 
yond  three  small  scratches  on  his  forehead. 

Stanhope  put  his  hand  under  the  chin  and  turned  it 
toward  him,  none  too  gently.  For  a  full  moment  he 
stood  motionless,  staring  down  at  that  white  face  so 
like  his  own.  Then  he  dipped  his  hand  in  the  glass, 
and  splashed  a  handful  of  water  upon  the  closed  eyes. 

At  the  first  touch  of  it,  the  still  figure  of  the  injured 
man  stirred  with  faint  signs  of  returning  conscious 
ness.  Far  down  in  a  black  and  utter  void,  he  sensed 
the  first  glimmer  of  distant  light.  Slowly,  slowly, 
the  glimmer  grew.  The  silence  within  gave  place  to 
a  vast  roaring  in  his  ears  and  indescribable  pain  in  his 
head;  and  the  dull  glow  which  had  seemed  to  him  the 
shining  frontier  of  some  far  new  world  whither  he  was 
gratefully  journeying,  resolved  itself  into  a  circle  of 
greenish  light. 

"  Drink  this,"  said  a  soft  but  peremptory  voice. 

He  drank,  incuriously;  and  the  fiery  liquid  ran  to 
his  head  and  heart  and  shot  new  life  into  his  dead  limbs. 
But  the  more  his  lost  strength  came  back  to  his  body, 
the  more  he  was  aware  of  the  terrible  pain  in  his  head. 


It  occurred  to  him  vaguely  that  when  once  he  opened 
his  eyes,  which  he  would  have  to  do  some  time,  there 
would  be  a  horrible  explosion  and  his  head  would  go 
off  like  a  sky-rocket. 

"  You  feel  better  now,"  asserted  rather  than  inquired 
the  voice. 

"  Much.  Thanks  to  you.  It  's  only  —  my  head. 
Something  seems  to  be  wrong  with  it,  a  little." 

"  Somebody  hit  you  there  with  a  club,  from  behind. 
You  remember  now,  don't  you?  Who  was  it?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Varney  wearily. 

"  Oh,  come !  Your  head  is  n't  as  bad  as  all  that  — 
there  's  not  even  a  bump  on  it.  Think  a  moment.  An 
old  man,  with  long  hair  and  gray  whiskers.  You  must 
know  who  it  was." 

Varney  pressed  his  hand  upon  his  racking  forehead. 
"  Oh !  So  it  was  he  —  then.  Poor  old  Orrick." 

The  author's  face  lost  something  of  its  color. 
"  Orrick !  .  .  .  What  —  what  has  this  fellow  got 
against  you  ?  " 

Varney  did  not  answer.  The  name  had  started 
remote  memories  to  working,  and,  very  slowly,  return 
ing  comprehension  advanced  to  meet  them.  He  and 
old  Orrick  had  been  standing  together  on  a  woodland 
road.  They  \vere  hunting  for  something.  An  1812 
penny  and  valuable.  That  was  it.  Before  that,  he  had 
stood  a  long  time  near  a  green  gate  somewhere,  looking 
at  a  pair  of  dark-blue  eyes.  He  remembered  distinctly 
what  merciless  eyes  they  were,  though  something  in 
a  far  corner  of  his  mind  recalled  that  he  had  once, 
oddly  enough,  associated  them  with  pleasant  things. 


STANHOPE   MEETS   HIS   DOUBLE        283 

Then,  like  one  rounding  a  sharp  corner  in  a  driveway, 
his  memory  came  face  to  face  with  everything;  and 
he  turned  his  head  to  the  wall. 

But  there  was  no  escape  from  that  insistent  voice, 
so  eager  for  an  explanation.  A  hand  fell  upon  his 
shoulder,  shook  it  almost  roughly.  "  Don't  let  your 
self  drop  off  again.  Here !  You  want  another  drink  ?  " 

"  No,  I  'm  quite  all  right  now  —  thank  you." 

To  prove  it,  and  to  make  ready  to  get  away  where 
he  could  be  quiet,  he  performed  the  herculean  task  of 
opening  his  eyes.  A  tall  man  was  bending  over  him, 
an  anxious  expression  on  his  handsome  face.  More 
than  the  liquor,  more  even  than  the  jostling  hand 
upon  his  shoulder,  the  look  of  that  face,  so  strange 
yet  so  familiar,  braced  Varney  to  action. 

The  two  pairs  of  gray-blue  eyes,  so  oddly  matched 
in  tint  and  shape,  stared  into  each  other  steadily.  Pres 
ently  Varney  dragged  his  feet  around  to  the  floor, 
with  difficulty,  as  was  natural  to  their  thousand  tons 
of  weight,  and  taking  hold  of  a  chair  pulled  himself 
up  on  them.  He  raised  his  hands,  slowly  and  cau 
tiously,  to  his  head.  Good!  It  was  still  there.  The 
impression  that  it  had  left  his  shoulders  and  was  float 
ing  around  in  the  air  a  foot  or  two  above  them  thus 
turned  out  to  be  an  illusion. 

"There!"  he  heard  the  author  saying  briskly. 
"  A  little  effort  was  all  you  needed,  as  I  thought." 

"  That  was  all.  Thank  you.  You  must  have  pulled 
me  in  from  the  road,  did  n't  you  ?  It  was  very  kind. 
You  have  just  arrived  in  Hunston  —  I  believe?" 

"  I  came  only  this  morning,"  his  good  Samaritan 


284       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

replied.  "  In  the  nick  of  time,  it  seems,  to  be  of  assis 
tance.  And  you  ?"  he  added,  with  a  slight  bow.  "You 
are  a  native  here,  perhaps?  " 

"  Do  you  remember  me,"  asked  Varney  quietly, 
"  when  you  were  here  twelve  years  ago  ?  " 

Mr.  Stanhope  selected  a  cigarette  from  a  large  open 
box  on  the  table,  lit  it  carefully,  took  several  long 
inhalations.  "  No,"  he  said  easily.  "  But  for  that 
matter,  I  fear  that  I  remember  few  of  my  boyhood 
acquaintances  in  Hunston.  But  —  this  man  —  Orrick, 
you  said  ?  —  has  there  been  bad  blood  between  you  two 
for  some  time  then  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Varney,  simply.  "  He  struck  me,  I 
believe,  because  he  thought  I  was  you  ?  " 

"  What!  "  cried  the  author  with  overdone  surprise. 

"  I  am  glad  —  to  meet  you  so  soon  after  your  arri 
val,"  continued  Varney.  "  Some  one  should  tell  you 
that  your  boyhood  acquaintances  have  longer  memories. 
You  came  here  for  your  health,  I  believe?  I  think 
you  might  do  well  to  leave  for  the  same  reason." 

Stanhope's  eyes  became  little  slits  behind  his  trim 
glasses.  "  What  do  you  mean  by  these  extraordinary 
remarks?  " 

Varney,  whose  brain  seemed  to  have  changed  into 
a  ball  of  shooting  pains  and  brilliant  fireworks,  endeav 
ored  to  think  out  clearly  just  what  he  had  meant  by 
his  extraordinary  remarks. 

"  Possibly  you  think  that  I  resemble  you  somewhat  ?  " 
he  said,  slowly.  "  A  number  of  people  here  seem  to 
hold  that  view.  In  fact,  they  have  mistaken  me  for  you 
—  everybody  has.  Doubtless  you  know  why  they 


STANHOPE   MEETS   HIS   DOUBLE        285 

should  feel  unkindly  towards  you.  I  make  myself  per 
fectly  clear,  do  I  not?  Only  this  afternoon  I  heard 
that  a  little  party  was  being  gotten  together  for  my 
benefit." 

The  author  dropped  his  nervous-looking  eyes;  he 
tugged  uncertainly  at  his  wisp  of  a  mustache. 

'  This  thump  on  the  head  from  poor  old  Orrick  may 
satisfy  them,"  continued  Varney.  "  But  my  idea  is 
that  it  won't.  I  think  Orrick  was  acting  independently 
this  afternoon.  A  kind  of  free  lance,  you  know.  I 
think  he  met  me  by  accident.  There  's  a  train  to  New 
York  at  eight-ten,"  he  added,  looking  about  for  his 
hat.  "  I  believe  I  'd  clear  out  if  I  were  you." 

"  Something  's  back  of  this !  "  broke  out  Stanhope 
suddenly.  "  Some  dirty  scheme  —  some  infamous 
plot  — " 

"  Yes,  you  are  right,"  said  Varney  with  an  effort. 
'  There  is  a  plot  back  of  it.  But  I  don't  know  that  that 
makes  it  any  better  for  you  — 

"  I  insist  that  you  explain  yourself  at  once!  " 

"  I  was  just  about  to.  I  came  here  three  days  ago, 
a  stranger  —  on  a  little  stay.  A  friend  who  is  with  me 
got  interested  in  a  reform  movement  here.  Politics, 
you  understand.  The  other  side  to  injure  him,  pub 
lished  the  story  that  I  was  you,  under  an  alias.  Natu 
rally  we  did  n't  like  that.  We  bought  the  paper  just  to 
say  that  I  was  n't.  I  supposed  that  had  settled  it.  It 
seems  I  was  wrong.  You  see,  a  good  deal  of  feeling 
had  been  worked  up  meantime  — " 

"Hello!"  exclaimed  Stanhope  suddenly  raising  his 
hand.  "What's  that?" 


286       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

Varney  listened.     "  Men's  voices,"  he  said  slowly. 

The  door  flew  open  and  a  man  whose  ordinary 
impassivity  was  touched  with  a  pleasurable  excitement 
stood  on  the  threshold. 

"If  you  please,  sir,  there  's  some  rough-looking  men 
just  sneaked  up  on  the  lawn.  Ten  or  twelve  —  sort 
of  a  mob-like,  Hi  should  say — " 

"What  do  they  want?"  demanded  Stanhope  in  a 
high  voice. 

"  No  good,  sir,  I  'm  thinking,"  said  the  servant 
shaking  his  head.  "  I  was  at  an  upstairs  window 
and  saw  'em  come  sneaking  up  one  by  one,  hentering 
at  different  places.  I  made  a  noise  not  honlike  the 
click  of  a  'ammer  of  a  gun,  and  they  took  alarm  and 
scattered  back.  But  they  hain't  gone  away,  sir.  Not 
by  a  long  shot  they  hain't." 

Henry's  master  leaned  against  his  handsome  writing 
table,  his  face  white  as  a  sheet.  It  appeared  to  be  a 
moment  when  quick  action  was  rather  important. 

"  They  '11  try  the  bell  first,"  said  Varney.  "  Lock 
all  the  doors  and  windows  downstairs,  my  man.  Quick ! 
When  they  ring,  open  a  window  upstairs,  and  ask  what 
they  want." 

Henry  recognized  the  note  of  competent  authority. 
He  assumed,  anyway,  that  it  was  the  strange  gentle 
man's  quarrel  they  had  so  fortunately  been  let  into,  and 
it  was  only  fair  that  he  should  manage  it.  "  Very 
good,  sir,"  he  said  and  flew. 

"  But  I  'm  afraid,"  added  Varney  to  Stanhope, 
"  there  is  no  doubt  what  they  want." 

A  single  quiet  footfall  sounded  on  the  porch  and  the 


STANHOPE   MEETS   HIS   DOUBLE        287 

door-bell  pealed.  In  the  silence  that  followed,  the 
noise  of  the  turning  of  locks  and  the  drawing  of  bolts 
was  distinctly  audible  in  the  study. 

"  Damn  you !  "  cried  Stanhope,  pale  with  the  sudden 
white-hot  passion  of  the  unstable.  "  This  is  your 
doing  —  you  —  you  masquerader !  " 

The  two  men  stood  facing  each  other,  hardly  a  yard 
apart.  They  were  almost  exactly  of  a  figure,  Stanhope 
being  if  anything  a  shade  the  taller.  Each  was  con 
scious  as  he  regarded  the  other  that  he  might  be  looking 
at  himself,  intangibly  altered,  in  a  mirror;  and  the 
fancy  was  pleasing  to  neither. 

"  I  suppose  I  might  as  reasonably  call  you  that," 
said  Varney  quietly.  "  I  might  as  reasonably  say  that 
this  knock  on  the  head  from  Sam  Orrick  was  your 
doing.  The  fact  is  that  you  were  a  fool  to  come  back 
here.  But  as  for  those  poor  fellows  out  there  — 

The  door-bell  rang  again,  insistently,  and  he  broke 
off.  A  window  upstairs  rattled  open,  and  they  heard  a 
man's  steady  voice : 

"  'I  there  on  the  piazza!     What  do  you  want?  " 

"  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Stanhope  a  minute,"  called  a 
thicker  voice  from  below.  "  On  important  business," 

"  'E  's  not  'ere,"  said  faithful  Henry.  "  'E  's  ex 
pected  to  arrive  to-morrow." 

"You're  a  -       -  liar!" 

Immediately  a  general  yelling  arose,  from  farther 
back  in  the  darkness.  Diplomacy,  it  seemed,  was  about 
to  be  abandoned  for  immediate  action.  But  over  the 
sudden  hubbub,  that  cool  voice  at  the  window  rang  out 
again : 


288       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  Hif  it 's  fight  you  want,  Hi  '11  say  we  were  ex- 
pectin'  you.  There  's  ten  of  us  'ere,  hall  armed  — ' 

A  derisive  voice  was  heard  in  answer.  "  We  '11  see 
about  that,  my  buck,  pretty  -  —  soon  - 

"  Men !  Hi  've  got  a  brace  of  six-shooters  'ere  in  my 
'and.  The  first  of  you  as  comes  into  the  light  gets  a 
couple  of  'oles  drilled  into  'is  hinside,  neat  and  clean." 

Having  launched  this  threat  from  his  inky  window 
to  gain  a  little  time,  Henry  silently  withdrew,  flung 
downstairs  and  broke  into  the  study,  his  scrape  and 
bow  forgotten,  to  inquire  whether  either  of  the  gentle 
men  had,  in  Gawd's  mercy,  hanythink  that  would 
shoot. 

His  master,  whose  well-kept  hands  were  opening  and 
shutting  by  his  side,  did  not  answer. 

"  No,"  said  Varney,  "  I  am  unarmed." 

"  Heven  without  a  gun,  sir,"  said  Henry  to  Stan 
hope,  and  his  look  was  not  such  as  a  servant  wears  to 
his  master,  "  we  could  lick  a  harmy  of  them  chaps." 

"  We  could  never  do  it!  "  cried  Mr.  Stanhope  shrilly. 

The  shouting  outside,  though  still  a  discreet  distance 
back,  grew  more  articulate.  Very  fearful  were  their 
menaces. 

"  Come  out,  Stanhope!    Your  time  's  come!  " 

"  We  '11  string  yer  to  a  tree,  yer  - 

"  Fellers,  let 's  burn  the  damn  rat  out!  " 

Stanhope's  face  went  from  white  to  pale  green.  He 
steadied  himself  against  the  table  with  a  hand  that 
quivered,  and  looked  at  Varney. 

"  It 's  —  it 's  you  they  want,"  he  said. 

"  O  my  Gawd,"  cried  Henry  and  put  his  face  into 
his  hands. 


STANHOPE    MEETS   HIS    DOUBLE        289 

"  Yes,"  said  Varney,  averting  his  eyes  also,  "  it  's 
I  they  want."  And  he  started  for  the  door. 

But  Henry,  who  had  noted  the  marked  resemblance 
between  the  two  men  and  had  caught  faint  glimmerings 
of  what  these  strange  things  meant,  barred  his  way 
with  an  immortal  rejoinder. 

"  Hif  you  please,  sir,  Stanhope  was  the  name  they 
called." 

Varney  gave  a  tired  laugh.  His  terrible  headache 
made  him  chafe  at  any  prolonging  of  the  scene.  More 
over,  it  made  rational  thought  difficult,  twisting  com 
mon-sense  into  fanciful  shapes.  It  seemed  to  him  an 
unendurable  thing  that  he  should  protect  himself  under 
the  wing  of  such  a  man  as  Stanhope;  and  the  thought 
of  fierce  action  drew  him  like  a  lodestone. 

"  You  're  a  good  fellow,  Henry,"  he  said  quietly. 
"  However,  your  master  and  I  agree  perfectly." 

But  at  that  moment,  the  small  window  at  the  back 
of  the  room,  which  no  one  had  thought  to  fasten,  flew 
open  and  a  man  slipped  nimbly  through  it  —  a  big, 
hard-breathing,  iron-faced  man,  with  perspiration 
streaming  rivers  down  his  sun-tanned  cheeks. 

Mr.  Stanhope,  with  a  weak  exclamation,  moved  so 
as  to  bring  the  table  between  himself  and  the  intruder. 
Varney's  eyes  grew  suddenly  anxious. 

"Thank  God,  you're  safe,  Larry!"  gasped  Peter, 
looking  hurriedly  about  him,  and  characteristically 
asking  no  questions.  "  Four  of  us !  Magnificent !  We 
can  hold  this  room  for  a  year  against  those  drunken 
sheep.  .  .  ." 

The  din  outside  grew  deafening.  One  man,  brav- 

19 


290       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

ing  Henry's  threat,  had  made  a  bolt  across  the  star-lit 
space  to  the  house,  and  no  shot  had  rung  out  from  the 
upstairs  window.  Others  had  instantly  followed,  and 
the  little  front  porch  now  echoed  under  many  feet. 
Yet,  boisterous  as  they  were,  the  mobbers  seemed  to 
hesitate  at  taking  the  front  door  at  a  rush,  as  though 
fearful  of  what  reception  might  await  them  in  the  dark 
and  silent  hall  beyond. 

But  now  a  stone  crashed  through  a  front  window 
downstairs,  and  a  man's  voice  rang  out  suddenly  so 
close  that  it  seemed  to  be  inside  the  parlor: 

"  One  minute  to  come  out  fair  in  the  open,  Stanhope, 
or  we  '11  set  a  light  to  this  house,  so  help  us  God !  " 

Mr.  Stanhope  gave  a  low  cry.  "  Call  to  them, 
Henry!"  he  ordered,  wildly.  "Quick!  Tell  them 
I  'm  coming  out  this  minute." 

Henry,  his  back  against  the  door,  did  not  stir. 

"  Hare  you  goin'  out,  sir?  " 

"  No,"  said  Varney,  "  he  is  n't.     But  I  am." 

Peter  came  further  into  the  pretty  room,  impatient 
eyes  fixed  on  Varney.  "What  fool's  talk  is  this?" 
he  demanded  roughly.  "  Nobody  is  going  out.  We 
four  —  " 

Another  loud  crash  of  broken  glass  drowned  him 
out.  In  Varney 's  eye  the  look  of  anxiecy  had  deep 
ened.  He  understood  everything  at  a  glance.  Adroit 
proddings  of  a  few  poor  Hackleys,  some  cheap  liquor, 
the  word  passed  to  Maginnis  as  from  a  friend  —  this 
was  how  the  boss  of  Hunston  had  plotted  to  set  his 
heel  upon  Reform  and  stamp  it  out  forever.  He  came 
three  steps  back  into  the  room,  sternly. 


STANHOPE   MEETS   HIS   DOUBLE        291 

"  You  were  a  monumental  fool  to  let  them  send  you 
here,  Peter  - 

But  the  swelling  tumult  without  made  parley  out  of 
the  question. 

"  No  time  for  talk !  "  roared  Peter.  "  It 's  fight 
now  —  before  they  are  in  on  us !  Lights  out  —  and  to 
the  front,  all  of  us !  " 

"  Right  hoh!  "  cried  Henry,  man  to  man,  and  ran 
out  the  door. 

"  No,  no !  "  protested  Mr.  Stanhope  thickly,  "  it 
is  n't  fair  — 

Peter  wheeled  and  looked  at  him,  personally,  for  the 
first  time.  He  had  recognized  him  instantly,  and  now 
when  he  saw  what  he  saw  on  that  sickly  green  face, 
his  fine  eyes  hardened. 

"  Four,  I  said  ?  I  see  there  are  only  three  men  here. 
No  matter  —  three  good  ones  are  more  than  enough. 
Larry,  stay  here !  I  '11  take  the  front  door  —  the  man 
the  front  windows  — 

But  Varney  blocked  his  way  to  the  door  with  a  face 
more  resolute  than  his  own. 

"  Stand  back,  Peter.  We  '11  do  nothing  of  the  sort. 
Those  are  Ryan's  men  out  there.  They  don't  want  Mr. 
Stanhope  —  you  know  that.  I  don't  like  this  place 
anyhow  —  I  'm  going  to  get  out  - 

"  I  '11  sizzle  in  hell  if  you  do!  "  bellowed  Peter,  and 
violently  pinioned  his  arms. 

But  Stanhope,  clutching  at  the  chance,  struck  again 
for  the  safety  of  his  skin.  "  He  ought  to  go,"  he  cried 
swiftly.  "It  isn't  my  quarrel  —  don't  you  see?  Let 
go  his  arm  there  —  you  bully!  —  let  him  go!" 


292       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

The  shock  of  that,  curiously,  surprised  Peter  into 
complying.  He  dropped  Varney's  arms,  turned  swiftly 
to  the  author  and  fixed  him  with  a  look  for  which, 
alone,  another  man  would  have  cried  for  his  blood. 
"  Did  I  hear  you  aright  ?  "  he  said  in  an  oddly  still 
voice.  "  Do  I  understand  you  to  suggest  that  he  be 
sent  out  there  alone?  " 

Mr.  Stanhope  shrank  before  that  look,  but  this  was 
the  utmost  concession  to  it. 

"  It 's  not  my  quarrel,"  he  said  moistening  his  lips  — 
and  suddenly,  glancing   over  Peter's  shoulder,  his  eyes 
lit  with  a   frightened  gleam   of   triumph.      "  It 's  he 
they  —  " 

Over  the  shouting  a  single  hoarse  cry  rang  out  very 
close  at  hand. 

"  Curse  you  for  the  cowardliest  dog  God  ever 
made !  "  cried  Peter,  his  passion  breaking  its  thin  veil 
of  calmness  like  a  bullet.  "  If  you  interfere  in  this, 
you  '11  not  hide  afterward  where  I  '11  not  find  you. 
Larry !  You  '11  -  Peter  turned  and  broke  off  short 
with  an  exclamation  which  was  a  good  deal  like  a 
groan. 

Varney  was  not  there.  Taking  advantage  of  Peter's 
momentary  distraction,  he  had  slipped  through  the  door 
and  fled  down  the  hall. 

Shaken  with  the  rushing  sense  of  his  friend's  danger, 
Peter  started  wildly  for  the  door.  But  in  that  fraction 
of  a  second,  the  lamp  on  the  center  table  was  blown 
suddenly  out  and  he  found  himself  in  inky  darkness. 
At  the  same  moment  something  thrust  itself  dexter 
ously  between  his  moving  legs  and  he  fell  heavily  to 


STANHOPE   MEETS   HIS   DOUBLE        293 

the  floor.  Falling  he  struck  out  blindly,  and  his  whirl 
ing  fist  collided  with  something  warm  and  soft.  The 
next  instant  he  was  up  and  groping  madly  for  the  door, 
his  sense  of  direction  all  gone  from  him.  But  the 
author  lay  where  he  had  fallen,  quite  still,  and,  for  the 
moment,  afraid  no  longer. 

The  moment's  gain,  however,  was  all  that  Stanhope 
needed,  though  it  was  no  more.  In  the  dark  hall  where 
a  single  candle  burned,  Varney  had  met  Henry.  The 
instant  before,  a  man's  head  and  shoulders  had  pro 
truded  suddenly  through  the  broken-in  parlor  window, 
and  Henry,  waiting  patiently  in  the  shadow  of  the  wall 
had  flatted  him  to  the  floor  with  a  heavy  chair,  which 
broke  in  his  hands.  Then  he  heard  swift  footsteps  in 
the  hall,  and  divining  what  had  happened,  bounded 
out. 

"  Stand  clear,  man!  "  cried  Varney  loudly.  "  I  'm 
going  out." 

A  prolonged  shouting  indicated  that  the  promise  was 
heard  with  approval  outside.  But  not  so  with  Henry, 
who  closed  in  on  him  fiercely,  crying :  "  Not  hon  your 
bloomin'  life,  you  don't  —  harskin'  your  pardon,  sir!  " 

Varney,  however,  was  a  thing  of  nerves  and  passion 
now,  all  energy  and  muscle  and  concentrated  purpose. 
He  shook  the  man  off  like  a  rat,  and  the  next  moment 
burst  open  the  front  door. 

All  this  had  happened  far  more  quickly  than  it  can  be 
set  down.  Five  minutes  had  hardly  passed  since 
Henry's  first  challenge  had  rung  from  the  upstairs 
window.  This  would  have  been  ample  time  to  carry 
the  house  by  storm,  front  and  back,  had  the  invaders 


294       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

had  the  leadership  and  wit;  but  these  things  they 
lacked.  They  were  still  massed  on  the  front  porch, 
pell-mell,  in  a  turbulent  group,  ramping,  raging,  thirsty 
for  action,  but  as  yet  ineffective;  though  one  of  them 
had  at  that  moment  set  a  match  to  a  torch  of  news 
papers  and  kindling  wood.  Delay  had  loosed  the 
hunter's  instinct  in  the  half-drunken  band:  it  broke 
into  flame  at  sight  of  the  cjuarry.  Varney  had  scarcely 
shown  himself  in  the  half-opened  door  when  some  one 
struck  him  a  savage  blow  on  the  chin  that  sent  him 
reeling  backwards. 

He  had  come  out  to  them  with  no  plan,  no  sense  of 
hostility,  and  only  because,  in  his  disturbed  mood,  he 
despised  Stanhope  so  utterly  that  he  would  take  no 
protection  from  him,  or  give  him  any  share  in  his  own 
troubles.  But  at  that  blow,  a  demon  sprang  to  life  in 
him  which  knew  no  law  but  an  eye  for  an  eye  and  a 
tooth  for  a  tooth.  His  left  arm  shot  out  like  a  piston 
at  the  dim  flushed  face  before  him,  and  the  face 
bobbed  downward  out  of  sight. 

At  the  same  moment,  the  heavy  back  of  a  chair  in 
supple  hands  descended  out  of  space  behind  him  with 
a  thud ;  and  a  great  tall  fellow,  staggering  backward 
with  the  unexpected  pain  of  that  stroke,  for  the 
moment  obstructed  his  comrades.  For  Henry  had  fol 
lowed  where  he  could  not  lead,  and  now  ranged  himself 
joyously  at  Varney's  side  in  the  narrow  threshold. 

The  setback,  however,  was  trivial.  In  the  next 
breath,  they  closed  round  him  with  a  great  shout, 
thrusting  Henry  violently  to  one  side.  Three  men  were 
required  for  this  latter  task,  who  so  missed  the  real 


STANHOPE   MEETS   HIS   DOUBLE        295 

sport  of  the  night.  Another  was  caught  when  the 
front  porch  fell  in  with  a  crash,  and  was  pulled  out 
with  a  broken  leg  an  hour  later.  But  enough  remained. 
Varney  was  instantly  lost  in  a  struggling  and  kicking 
hurly-burly  of  arms  and  legs,  and  was  borne  with  them 
in  a  rush  down  the  short  flight  of  steps  to  the  lawn. 
All,  of  course,  could  not  reach  him.  So  it  happened 
that  two  or  three,  on  the  outskirts  of  the  tossing  group, 
heard  the  feet  of  reinforcements  in  the  hallway  and 
wheeled  at  that  sound.  Even  in  the  faint  light,  Peter's 
great  size  made  him  easily  recognizable ;  and  a  young 
man  of  Hare's  party  named  Bud  Spinks,  who  admired 
him  intensely  and  had  partaken  of  his  hospitality  in 
the  town,  was  still  enough  himself  to  cry  out : 

"  Keep  away,  Mr.  Maginnis!    This  ain't  your  fuss!  " 

"  You  '11  see !  "  shouted  Peter,  and  cleared  the 
wrecked  porch  at  a  bound. 

In  his  dash  through  the  darkness  for  the  door  he  had 
stumbled  over  the  fragments  of  Henry's  broken  chair. 
One  stout  leg  of  it  remained  in  his  hand  now.  Peter's 
prowess  with  that  weapon  has  passed  into  legend  in 
Hunston.  They  tell  to  this  day  of  a  great  giant,  eight 
feet  tall,  watchful  eyes  in  all  parts  of  him,  impervious 
to  all  blows,  hundred-handed  and  every  hand  like  the 
kick  of  a  mule,  who  met  ten  men  almost  single-handed 
that  night  and  routed  them  utterly. 

He  was  the  biggest  man  in  Hunston,  the  strongest 
and  the  most  terrible  in  anger.  Bud  Spinks,  because 
he  did  not  know  whose  fuss  that  was,  felt  the  bite  of 
that  anger,  and  toppled  beneath  it  like  a  sapling  under 
the  woodman's  axe.  So  did  poor  old  Orrick,  who  had 


296       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

met  the  others  on  the  road  and  returned  with  them, 
and  who  was  the  only  man  of  them  all  that  Peter  rec 
ognized.  Two  of  those  who  were  looking  after  Henry, 
having  laid  him  to  rest  by  this  time,  rushed  Peter  from 
behind.  One  of  them  struck  him  heavily  on  the  point 
of  the  jaw  as  he  swung  around,  and  was  astonished 
that  he  did  not  appear  to  notice  it.  The  next  instant 
he  fell  senseless  under  a  blow  that  crushed  through  his 
upraised  fists  as  a  hammer  might  go  through  a  drum 
head.  One  Peter  hit  a  glancing  blow  upon  the  shoul 
der,  and  as  long  as  he  lived  he  could  never  raise  that 
arm  above  his  head  again. 

Thus  Peter  was  free  to  fling  himself  on  that  vio 
lently  swaying  mass  which  he  knew  held  Varney. 
Even  those  on  the  further  side  knew  precisely  the 
moment  he  struck  it.  The  whole  body  quivered  with 
the  shock  of  that  impact.  Those  nearer  that  chair  leg 
and  that  equally  terrible  fist  had  more  personal  testi 
mony  to  his  presence.  There  was  no  resisting  either. 
They  got  in  many  blows  upon  him,  as  his  bruised  body 
and  discolored  face  showed  next  morning.  But  he 
never  once  faltered.  To  himself,  with  a  precious 
moment  lost  back  in  the  study  and  a  heart  afire  to  know 
if  he  were  yet  in  time,  his  progress  seemed  desperately 
slow;  yet  he  cleft  a  path  for  himself  as  by  magic. 

Knocking  some  down,  thrusting  others  aside  or 
frightening  them  away,  he  found  his  answer  at  last 
with  sudden  directness.  A  big  raw-boned  fellow, 
fiercely  drunk  and  working  with  his  feet  at  something 
on  the  ground,  wheeled  and  struck  passionately  at 
Peter's  face.  A  blow  like  a  cannon  shot  wras  his  reply, 


STANHOPE   MEETS   HIS   DOUBLE        297 

and,  for  the  second  time  under  the  impact  of  that  fist, 
Jim  Hackley  (though  Peter  did  not  know  him)  meas 
ured  his  length  upon  the  ground.  Two  or  three  scat 
tering  ones,  still  up,  were  hovering  in  Peter's  rear  with 
a  discreetness  which,  it  chanced  was  now  quite  super 
fluous.  For  at  that  instant,  he  caught  sight  of  his 
friend,  and  immediately  all  the  fight  went  out  of  him 
and  his  knees  shook. 

Varney  lay  anyhow  on  the  trodden  grass,  dappled 
with  blood,  his  head  curved  fantastically  beneath  his 
shoulders.  Another  had  gone  down  with  him  and 
lay  half  over  him,  a  long  arm  locked  about  him  in 
a  curious  gesture  that  oddly  suggested  protection. 
This  one  lay  face  downward,  but  Varney,  as  it  hap 
pened,  was  on  his  back,  and  his  upturned  face  looked 
in  the  dusky  night  the  image  of  death. 

Peter  dropped  his  club  with  a  strangled  cry,  an,d  went 
down  on  his  hands  and  knees.  No  reassuring  flutter 
met  the  hand  which  he  thrust  inside  the  trampled 
bosom.  That  heart  seemed  stilled.  He  gathered  the 
limp  form  in  his  arms  like  a  child's  and  turned  a  dread 
ful  face  upon  the  beaten  fragments  of  the  mobbing- 
party. 

"  By  God !  "  he  shouted  passionately.  "  You  've 
killed  him!" 

They  faded  away  into  the  darkness,  such  of  them  as 
could  walk,  sobered  by  the  horror  of  that  cry,  fright 
ened  more  at  that  face  than  at  all  the  blows  which  had 
gone  before. 

So  Peter  stood  alone  in  the  little  lawn,  dark  figures 
of  his  enemies  stretched  here  and  there  about  him,  his 


298       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

great  arms  clutching  the  inert  body  of  his  friend, 
groaning  his  pain  to  the  four  winds.  But  the  next  in 
stant,  flying  hoof-beats  sounded  on  the  road,  raced 
near,  and  a  two-horse  buggy,  overloaded  with  men, 
pulled  up  sharply  at  the  gate.  A  very  small  pale  man, 
in  a  frock-coat  plastered  with  dirt,  and  stuttering  vio 
lently  as  he  shouted  Peter's  name,  tore  up  the  path. 

"  You  're    too    late,    Hare !  "     cried    Peter    wildly. 
"They've  killed  him!" 


CHAPTER    XXII 

RELATING  HOW  VARNEY  FAILS  TO  DIE;  AND  WHY 
SMITH  REMAINED  IN  HUNSTON  J  AND  HOW  A 
RECEPTION  IS  PLANNED  FOR  MR.  HIGGINSON 

Thus  it  happened  that  the  southbound  local,  which 
went  through  at  eight-ten,  did  not  acquire  Varney  as  a 
passenger  that  night;  and  his  old  friend,  Elbert  Car- 
stairs,  did  not  meet  his  emissary  at  nine-thirty,  or  in 
deed  at  any  hour  that  evening.  But  two  travelers  for 
New  York  did  board  the  local  at  Hunston,  and  both 
of  them,  as  it  chanced,  repaired  to  the  car  provided 
for  smokers,  each  for  his  own  reasons. 

One  of  them  straightway  lighted  a  long  cigar,  which 
a  gentleman  had  given  him  that  morning,  doubtless 
unwisely,  for  he  was  not  above  twelve  years  old.  The 
other,  who  happened  to  sit  in  the  seat  just  before  him, 
did  not  smoke.  He  was  rendered  conspicuous  by  the 
fact  that  he  wore  no  hat,  and  by  the  deadly  pallor  of 
his  face,  relieved  only  by  a  reddening  bump  beneath 
the  right  eye.  His  clothes  also  were  dirty  and  dis 
heveled  till  he  seemed  scarcely  the  superior  in  ele 
gance  of  the  little  ragamuffin  behind  him. 

So  that  it  was  not  surprising  that  the  amiable  con 
ductor,  standing  by  for  the  tickets  and  struck  by  the 
obvious  likeness,  should  have  observed: 


3oo       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

'  Your  son  's  pretty  young  to  be  a-smokin'  seegars, 
ain't  he?" 

Mr.  Stanhope,  not  knowing  what  this  remark  meant, 
and  caring  less,  answered  with  a  cold  stare,  though  in 
wardly  he  cursed  the  man  for  his  fatuous  impertinence. 
That  done,  he  relapsed  dully  into  his  own  thoughts, 
which  were  all  of  the  house  he  had  scurried  from, 
terrified  by  Peter's  cry,  half  an  hour  before.  .  .  . 

In  that  house,  in  Mr.  Stanhope's  own  deserted  bed, 
Varney  lay  at  his  ease,  as  quiet  as  a  statued  man. 
Over  the  bed,  industriously  at  work,  hung  the  keen- 
faced  town  doctor,  whom  Hare  had  gotten  with  a  speed 
which  passed  all  understanding.  At  the  foot  of  the 
bed  stood  Peter  Maginnis,  his  face  like  the  face  of  a 
carven  image. 

At  the  very  moment  when  the  garrulous  conductor 
was  trying  to  foist  off  poor  little  Tommy  Orrick  upon 
Mr.  Stanhope,  the  old  doctor  raised  his  head. 

"  He  's  not  dead  yet.  An  excellent  chance  I  should 
say." 

Peter's  face  did  not  change.  His  hand  tightened  on 
the  foot-board  till  his  nails  whitened.  It  was  as  though 
he  had  pulled  a  signal  cord  which  ran  unseen  under  the 
bed-clothes  and  rung  a  mysterious  bell  in  some  remote 
corner  of  his  friend's  head.  Varney  immediately 
opened  one  eye,  let  it  rest  on  Peter  and  said  in  a  clear 
voice : 

"You  all  right,  Peter?" 

That  done  he  relapsed  immediately  into  unconscious 
ness  again.  The  doctor  took  out  a  large  handkerchief, 
wiped  his  brow  and  smiled.  Peter,  his  quick  relief  like 


VARNEY   FAILS   TO   DIE  301 

a  storm  of  joy,  went  downstairs  to  tell  his  friends  of 
the  Reform  Committee,  and  do  a  thousand  other 
things. 

By  nine  o'clock  the  town  was  ringing  with  the  wild 
story,  and  in  the  still  watches  of  the  later  night  the 
telegraph  flung  it  to  far  places,  to  be  read  in  wonder 
next  morning  in  a  million  homes.  Overnight,  the  great 
eye  of  the  country  turned  like  an  unwinking  searchlight 
upon  the  dingy  town  by  the  Hudson  where  happened  to 
dwell  Mrs.  Elbert  Carstairs  and  her  only  daughter, 
Mary.  And  all  the  world  read  how  two  men  who  were 
doubles  had  strangely  met  in  a  lonely  house  with  a 
drunken  mob  outside;  how  one  of  them,  who  had 
earned  the  mob,  turned  the  other  out  to  face  it;  how 
the  son  of  a  famous  captain  of  industry  had  shamed  the 
Berserkers  in  his  passionate  muscularity :  how  one 
"  double  "  had  fled  to  save  his  skin  and  how  the  other, 
battered  almost  beyond  recognition,  now  lay  trembling 
between  life  and  death. 

In  Hunston,  there  followed  next  day  a  whirl  of 
police  activity,  of  which  the  net  results  were  tame  in 
the  extreme.  Of  all  the  fierce  band  which  had  stormed 
the  house  of  Mr.  Stanhope,  only  poor  old  Orrick  and 
Mr.  British,  the  bookseller  —  he  who  had  been  pulled 
out  senseless  from  under  the  beams  of  the  porch  — 
were  identified.  Mr.  British  flatly  and  resolutely  de 
clined  to  testify  as  to  who  his  comrades  were,  and  old 
Sam  Orrick,  terrified  though  he  was  by  prospective 
horrors  of  the  law,  loyally  perjured  his  immortal  soul 
by  swearing  that  the  men  were  all  strangers  to  him  and 
that  he  believed  them  to  be  visitors  from  another  city. 


302       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

The  count  against  these  two  proved  to  be  only  as 
sault  and  battery,  though  for  three  days  and  nights  it 
was  a  toss  of  the  coin  whether  they  would  not  have  to 
answer  for  a  graver  charge.  Peter's  joy  had  soon 
proved  premature  and  the  doctor's  smile  faded  in  un 
expected  bewilderment.  The  sick  man  did  not  im 
prove  in  the  least.  Delirium  followed  hard  upon 
deadly  stupor  and  there  seemed  no  rousing  him  from 
either. 

The  yellow  cottage  with  the  trampled  flower-beds 
and  smashed  windows,  which  looked  so  bare- faced 
with  its  front  porch  shaved  away,  had  passed  to 
Peter  for  the  moment  by  right  of  conquest.  In  it 
everything  that  conducted  to  the  comfort  of  ill  man 
had  been  quickly  and  lavishly  installed.  Everybody 
was  wonderfully  kind  and  thoughtful.  Mrs.  Marne, 
who  reached  the  cottage  with  Mrs.  Carstairs  half  an 
hour  after  the  doctor  the  first  night,  and  had  done 
wonders  before  the  nurses  arrived,  was  simply  invalu 
able.  Hare  came  night  and  morning,  horribly  formal 
and  ill  at  ease,  begging  for  something  to  do.  Flowers 
and  inquiries  from  total  strangers  were  an  hourly  oc 
currence.  From  Charlie  Hammerton  came  a  quart  of 
magnificent  Scotch,  followed  on  the  second  day  by  a 
pile  of  clippings  from  the  Gazette's  exchanges  which 
must  have  gratified  the  injured  man  extremely  if  only 
he  had  been  able  to  read  them.  His  own  leading  arti 
cle,  headed  "  Laurence  Varney,  Hero,"  Editor  Ham 
merton  modestly  suppressed.  By  the  hand  of  sad-faced 
McTosh  came  a  hideous  floral  piece,  in  fact,  a  red, 
white,  and  blue  star,  bearing  the  label  "  From  the  sor- 


VARNEY   FAILS   TO   DIE  303 

rowing  crew  of  the  Cypriani."  Mrs.  Carstairs,  whose 
emotions  at  the  time  were  hardly  fully  understood  in 
the  yellow  cottage,  called  daily  and  sent  beautiful  roses 
and  chicken  jelly.  The  roses  faded  and  the  chicken 
jelly  was  considerably  enjoyed  by  the  nurses.  But 
from  Mrs.  Carstairs's  daughter,  whose  filial  relations 
had  invoked  all  these  things,  there  came  neither  flower 
nor  word. 

The  fight  had  taken  place  upon  a  Thursday  night. 
On  Friday,  the  Hunston  doctor,  at  his  wits'  end,  had 
asked  for  a  consultation.  On  Saturday,  the  great  doc 
tor  from  the  city  had  spent  an  hour  in  the  sick-room, 
first  examining  the  patient  in  a  bodily  way,  and  then 
prodding  him  with  a  tireless  stream  of  questions,  how 
ever  futile  —  anything  to  make  him  talk.  At  the  end 
of  that  time  he  had  whispered  awhile  with  the  town 
doctor  and  drawn  Peter  into  the  study  downstairs. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  him,  Mr.  Maginnis?  "  he 
asked  abruptly. 

"  Matter?  "  echoed  Peter.  "  Was  n't  he  beaten  to  a 
pulp?" 

"  Kicks  don't  kill  a  man  with  that  kind  of  physique. 
What  has  he  got  on  his  mind?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Peter,  miserably.  "  The  last 
time  I  saw  him  —  " 

"  Find  out,"  said  the  great  doctor,  briefly.  "If  you 
don't,  he  may  die.  He  seems  to  have  had  a  shock  of 
some  kind.  You  must  work  upon  that  line.  There  is 
nothing  the  matter  with  his  body  that  he  can't  throw 
off.  But  he  will  not  get  well  unless  you  put  the  idea 
into  his  head  that  he  must." 


304       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

And  glancing  at  his  watch,  he  bowed  stiffly,  and  was 
whirled  away  to  the  station. 

Peter  was  utterly  at  a  loss.  He  had  no  idea  what 
had  taken  Varney  up  the  road  to  Stanhope's  that 
afternoon,  much  less  of  any  shock  that  could  conceiv 
ably  have  come  to  him.  But  he  set  himself  to  find  out. 
By  the  next  morning,  partly  through  inquiry,  partly 
through  patching  two  and  two  together,  he  had  worked 
out  a  theory.  Guesswork,  of  course,  was  rather  dan 
gerous  in  a  delicate  matter  such  as  this ;  but  the  doc 
tor's  report  after  breakfast  had  been  the  very  worst 
yet.  Peter  never  faltered.  He  picked  up  his  hat  from 
the  study  table,  in  front  of  which  he  had  been  figuring 
these  things  out,  and  started  down  the  hall. 

Mrs.  Marne  was  sitting  quietly  on  the  bottom  step 
of  the  stairway,  her  dark  head  in  her  hands;  and 
Peter  was  glad  to  see  her. 

"  I  've  found  out  a  little  about  that,"  said  Peter,  in 
a  low  voice.  "  I  believe  it  was  —  to  see  Miss  Carstairs 
that  he  came  up  the  road  that  day." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Marne.    "  I  have  heard  that  too." 

"  She  struck  me,"  said  Peter,  "  as  a  nice  little  girl. 
Probably  she  does  n't  understand  the  situation.  I  am 
going  to  see  her  now." 

"  She  won't  see  you,"  said  Mrs.  Marne. 

"  Yes,  she  will,"  said  Peter  quietly,  and  started  for 
the  door. 

But  Mrs.  Marne  caught  him  by  the  hand,  protect- 
ingly,  like  an  elder  sister,  and  drew  him  into  the  parlor 
and  shut  the  door. 

Half  an  hour  later   Peter  came  out  and  went  up 


VARNEY   FAILS   TO   DIE  305 

the  stairs.  At  the  landing  he  paused  to  take  off  his 
shoes,  and  went  on  up  in  his  stocking  feet. 

It  was  Sunday  morning,  near  eleven  o'clock,  a  bril 
liant  morning  all  sun  and  wind.  The  far  church  bells 
of  Hunston  were  ringing  on  the  clear  air  like  chimes 
from  another  world.  Never  afterward  could  Peter 
hear  the  Sunday  bells  without  thinking  of  that  moment. 
At  the  door,  he  met  Miss  Nevin,  the  day-nurse,  coming 
out.  She  said  she  was  going  to  telephone  the  doctor. 

Peter  slipped  into  the  darkened  room  and  shut  the 
door  noiselessly  behind  him.  After  a  moment,  he 
tipped  over  to  the  bed  and  sat  down  in  the  nurse's 
chair,  silently.  The  bed  looked  very  fresh  and  white 
and  unrumpled,  and  that  was  because  the  injured  man 
had  for  two  days  lain  almost  wholly  quiet.  The  thin 
coverlet  defined  his  long  frame  perfectly.  Many  ban 
dages  about  the  limbs  and  trunk  made  it  look  gro 
tesquely  bumpy  and  misshapen.  One  arm,  wrapped 
from  shoulder  to  finger-tip  was  outside  the  coverlet; 
now  and  then  the  hand,  which  was  muffled  large  as  a 
boxing-glove,  moved  a  little.  Cloths  ran  slantwise 
about  chin,  brow,  and  head,  leaving  only  breathing 
space  and  one  eye  uncovered. 

Presently,  as  he  became  more  used  to  the  darkness, 
Peter  observed  that  the  eye  was  open  and  regarding 
him  incuriously:  and  he  started  in  some  confusion. 
"  Do  you  feel  much  pain  now,  old  chap?  "  he  began 
rather  huskily. 

"  Pain?  "  repeated  Varney,  vaguely.  "  No,  I  don't 
feel  any  pain." 

"No  pain!     That's  fine!"    said  Peter  with  lying 


306       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

cheerfulness,  for  he  knew  that  this  deadness  to  sensa 
tion  was  the  worst  feature  in  the  case.  "  That  —  left 
leg  is  rather  badly  bruised,  it  seems.  I  was  a  little 
afraid  that  might  be  troubling  you  some." 

Silence. 

"Did  Miss  Nevin  show  you  all  your  flowers? 
They  've  just  been  pouring  in  all  day  every  day.  We 
could  turn  florists  to-day  without  spending  a  penny 
for  stock.  Couldn't  we,  Larry,  eh?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Varney  laboriously.     "  We  could." 

"  Everybody  has  been  so  kind,"  continued  Peter, 
desperately,  "  that  upon  my  word  it 's  hard  to  pick  and 
choose.  If  I  were  asked  to  say  who  had  really  been 
kindest  —  let  me  see  —  yes,  I  'd  name  —  Mrs.  Car- 
stairs.  Flowers  and  something  to  eat,  some  little 
dainty  or  delicacy,  twice  a  day.  The  fact  is,  old  chap, 
to  put  it  plainly,  though  I  don't  want  to  distress  you, 
you  know  —  she  is  blaming  herself  about  this.  Blam 
ing  herself  greatly." 

"  She  ought  n't  to  do  that,"  said  Varney  after  a 
time. 

"  Of  course  she  ought  n't  to.  Yet  it 's  natural 
enough  in  a  way.  Of  course,  I  'm  blaming  myself, 
too  —  like  the  mischief  —  I  'd  had  so  many  warnings, 
you  know.  Little  Hare  is  blaming  himself.  And  Mr. 
Carstairs  —  poor  old  fellow !  I  '11  show  you  his  letters 
when  —  the  light 's  a  little  better  for  reading.  They  're 
fine,  honestly.  Of  course,  he  wanted  to  come  on  right 
away,  but  I  would  n't  let  him." 

Silence  again. 

"  So  you  see  how  many  of  us,"  continued  Peter, 


VARNEY   FAILS   TO   DIE  307 

nearing  his  awkward  climax,  "  have  been  worried,  per 
sonally,  about  this  —  trouble.    And  how  much,  well  - 
how  much  —  happiness  is  bound  up  in  your  getting 
well.     And  by  the  way  —  I  declare  I  nearly  forgot 
Miss  Carstairs  —  I  declare !  " 

There  was  a  long  silence,  which  Peter  resolved  not 
to  break.  Through  the  shuttered  window,  the  distant 
bells  chimed  faintly  into  the  room.  The  sick  man's 
stray  arm  moved  restlessly  on  the  coverlet,  but  other 
wise  he  lay  quite  still. 

At  length  Varney  said :  "  When  did  you  see  Miss 
Carstairs  ?  She  has  n't  —  been  here  —  ?  " 

But  poor  Peter's  errand  was  not  so  easy  as  that.  He 
had  no  glad  shaft  of  promise  with  which  to  pierce 
that  deadly  Nessus-coat  of  apathy. 

"  She  could  n't  come  here,  old  chap,"  said  Peter,  very 
gravely.  "  You  had  n't  heard,  of  course.  Miss  Car- 
stairs  is  very  ill." 

"  Miss  Carstairs  is  very  ill,"  repeated  Varney,  not  in 
quiringly,  but  like  a  child  saying  over  a  lesson. 

"  Awfully  ill,"  said  Peter  encouragingly.  "  It 
seems  that  she  came  home  Thursday  night  a  little  after 
seven,  looking  very  pale  and  badly,  but  insisting  that 
there  was  nothing  the  matter.  She  sat  upstairs  with 
her  mother  until  about  eight,  when  somebody  called  her 
down  to  the  telephone.  Well,  she  did  n't  come  back. 
So  after  a  while  Mrs.  Carstairs  sent  down  to  find  out 
why.  The  maid  found  her  in  the  hall  —  in  fact,  on  the 
floor,  I  believe.  She  had  fainted,  you  know.  Yes  — 
that  was  it.  Fainted  dead  away  —  poor  little  girl." 

After  what  seemed  an  eternity  of  waiting,  Varney 


3o8       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

asked:  "What  was  it  —  do  you  know?  At  the  tele 
phone?  " 

"  Yes.  It  was  Mrs.  Marne.  She  called  up  Miss  Car- 
stairs  in  the  first  excitement  of  —  of  your  accident,  it 
seems,  and  I  'm  afraid  she  gave  a  very  exaggerated 
and  alarming  account,  you  know.  They  put  her  to 
bed,"  continued  Peter  clearing  his  throat,  "  and  there 
she  's  been  ever  since.  The  great  shock,  you  know. 
Mrs.  Marne  saw  her  this  morning  —  the  first  time  she 
had  been  admitted.  It 's  all  quite  sad.  Quite  sad. 
We  '11  talk  of  it  again  when  —  you  're  feeling  a  bit 
stronger." 

Varney,  who  had  lain  like  a  statue  for  two  days  and 
nights,  had  begun  moving  a  little  under  the  coverlet, 
stirring  first  one  swathed  leg,  then  the  other,  as  though 
seeking  vainly  to  shift  his  position.  Now  he  said  at 
once :  "  I  want  to  hear  now." 

Peter  gave  a  deep  sigh.  He  thought,  and  rightly, 
that  this  was  the  best  thing  that  had  happened  yet. 

"  Well,  it 's  all  very  strange,  Larry.  When  I  said 
that  it  was  the  shock  of  the  accident  mat  had  made 
her  ill,  I  did  not  tell  the  whole  truth.  It  seems  that  she 
is  suffering  from  a  terrible  hallucination  about  it.  She 
feels  in  some  strange  way  that  the  responsibility  for  all 
this  —  -  is  hers.  She  told  Mrs.  Marne  that  she  was  re 
sponsible  for  your  being  on  the  road  that  night,  and 
that  she  had  been  unfair  about  something  or  other,  and 
that  but  for  that  the  —  trouble  would  never  have  hap 
pened.  I  don't  pretend  to  understand  it.  But  feeling 
as  she  does  now  —  if  anything  were  to  —  to  go  wrong, 
the  poor  child  would  count  herself  —  she  would  count 
herself  —  " 


VARNEY  FAILS   TO   DIE  309 

"Don't!"    said  Varney  very  clearly  and  distinctly. 

His  face  looked  all  at  once  so  ghastly  that  Peter's 
heart  stopped  beating.  He  thought  in  a  horrible  flash 
that  the  end  had  come,  and  that  he,  Peter  Maginnis, 
had  brought  it  by  tearing  at  the  worst  wound  his  friend 
had.  His  clumsy  diplomacy  fell  from  him  as  at  the 
last  trump.  He  dropped  on  his  knees  beside  the  bed 
with  a  groan. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Larry,  don't  leave  that  mark  to  a 
child  like  her.  Don't  give  us  all  that  sorrow  to  carry 
to  our  graves  —  ' 

But  Varney  had  pulled  his  arms  free  and  was  clutch 
ing  wildly  at  his  head-bandages  with  heavily  swathed 
fingers. 

"  You  need  n't  worry  about  me,"  he  said  in  a  sharp 
anguished  voice.  "  Great  Scott !  What 's  —  what 's 
wrong  with  my  head!  It 's  killing  me." 

He  recovered  with  a  speed  which  puzzled  the  old 
Hunston  doctor  even  more  than  his  previous  lethargy 
had  done.  Five  days  later  he  was  well  enough  to  be 
lifted  downstairs  to  the  small  back  piazza,  and  here  he 
lay  blanketed  up  in  a  reclining  chair  for  half  the  sunny 
afternoon. 

A  bundle  of  letters  and  telegrams  lay  on  his  covered 
knees ;  and  going  slowly  through  them,  he  came  pres 
ently  to  one  from  Elbert  Carstairs,  arrived  only  that 
morning: 

"  MY  DEAR  BOY  : 

Words  are  feeble  things  at  their  best, 
and  I  know  of  none  that  would  convey  to  you  my  great 


3io       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

joy  at  the  news  that  you  are  out  of  danger.  By  the  same 
mail,  I  have  learned  that  my  other  dear  sick  one  in  Hun- 
ston  is  quite  herself  again,  and  I  say  to  God  in  gratitude 
upon  my  knees  that  my  cup  is  full." 

A  pause  in  the  reading  here.  The  long  hand  of  the 
nurse's  clock  on  the  window-sill  had  crawled  half 
around  the  dial  before  Varney  raised  the  letter  again 
from  his  blanketed  lap : 

;'  There  is  much  in  my  heart  to  tell  you,  much  to  beg  your 
forgiveness  for,  but  I  shall  keep  it  to  say  to  you  face  to 
face.  Just  now  the  keenest  point  in  my  grief  is  that  all 
this  suffering  I  have  brought  upon  you  has  been  worse 
than  unnecessary.  Light  has  come  to  me  in  these  sleep- 
ness  nights,  and  I  see  now  that  there  was  a  much  better 
way  to  seek  what  I  sought,  a  far  happier  path." 

The  letter  slipped  down  upon  the  swathed  knees 
again,  and  he  lay  staring  at  the  blown  and  sunny  tree- 
tops.  Presently  the  door  at  his  side  opened ;  a  man 
started  to  come  through  it,  stopped  short,  and  stood 
motionless  on  the  threshold. 

Varney  slowly  turned  his  head.  In  the  doorway,  to 
his  dim  surprise,  stood  Mr.  Stanhope's  man,  Henry, 
bowing,  unobtrusive,  apologetic,  ready  to  efface  him 
self  at  a  gesture  like  the  well-trained  servant  he  was. 

"  Why  —  is  that  you,  Henry  ?  " 

"  Harskin'  your  pardon  for  the  hintrusion,  sir,"  said 
Henry  with  a  wooden  face.  "  I  did  n't  know  you  were 
'ere,  sir.  'Opin'  you  are  feeling  improved  to-day,  sir 
—  if  you  please,  Hi  '11  withdraw  —  ' 

"  Henry,"  said  Varney,  "  that  is  no  way  for  you  to 


VARNEY   FAILS   TO   DIE  311 

speak  to  me  —  after  the  way  you  stood  up  for  me  that 
night.  Come  here." 

And  he  disentangled  from  his  covers  and  held  out  a 
rather  maimed-looking  hand. 

Then  he  saw  the  soul  of  the  man  whip  through  the 
livery  of  the  menial  like  a  knife,  and  Henry,  stumbling 
forward  with  a  working  face,  clasped  that  hand 
proudly  in  his  strong  white  one :  only  he  dropped  on 
one  knee  to  do  it,  as  if  to  show  that,  though  gentlemen 
might  be  pleased  to  show  him  kindness  now  and  then, 
he  perfectly  understood  that  he  was  not  as  they. 

"  Ho,  sir,"  he  broke  out  in  a  tone  very  different 
from  his  well-controlled  voice  of  service,  "  I  never  seen 
a  pluckier  thing  done,  nor  a  gamer  fight  put  up.  You 
make  me  too  proud,  sir,  with  your  'and  —  man  to  man 
...  I  was  shamed,  sir,  till  I  could  n't  bear  it  when  I 
came  to  and  learned  that  I  'ad  not  stayed  with  you,  sir, 
to  the  end.  Three  of  them  closed  in  on  me,  sir,  and 
harskin'  your  pardon,  sir,  I  was  whippin'  hof  'em  to 
standstill  when  one  of  them  tripped  me  from  be'ind, 
sir  —  " 

"  Stand  up,  Henry,"  said  Varney,  rather  agitated, 
"  like  the  man  you  are." 

Henry  stood  up,  with  a  jerky  "  Thank  you,  sir," 
striving  with  momentary  ill-success  to  get  a  lackey's 
mask  back  upon  that  quivering  face. 

"  I  '11  always  remember  you,"  said  Varney  with  some 
difficulty,  "  as  a  good  and  brave  man.  I  don't  think 
I  '11  ever  forget  how  you  disobeyed  an  order  —  to  try 
to  save  me.  And  now  tell  me  —  what  became  of  your 
master?  " 


3i2       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  'E  's  in  the  village,  sir,"  said  Henry  rather  both 
ered  by  his  throat.  "  I  'm  expecting  'im  in  any 
moment,  sir  —  " 

"In  the  village?"  repeated  Varney,  surprised. 
"  Mr.  Stanhope  is  in  Hunston?  " 

"  Mr.  Stanhope!  "  said  Henry  with  an  insufferable 
contemptuousness  for  which  he  at  once  apologized. 
"  Harskin'  your  pardon,  sir  —  I  thought  you  inquired 
for  my  master.  Mr.  Stanhope,  I  'ave  'card,  sir,  has 
sailed  for  Europe." 

"  Well,  who  's  your  master,  then  ?  " 

"  Mr.  Maginnis  is  my  master,  sir." 

Varney  deliberated  on  this,  and  slowly  smiled. 
"  Well,  you  've  got  a  good  one,  Henry." 

"  Thank  you,  sir.  That 's  'im  now,  sir.  I  'ear  'is 
motor  in  the  road.  If  you  '11  excuse  me,  sir —  I  '11  go 
and  let  'im  in." 

And  he  bowed  and  went  away,  only  pausing  in  the 
entry  to  attend  a  moment  to  his  blurred  eyes  with  the 
back  of  a  supple  hand. 

Peter  stepped  out  into  the  porch  with  a  cheery 
greeting  and  dropped  into  a  rocking-chair,  looking 
worn  and  tired.  The  instant  his  heavy  anxiety  over 
Varney  was  relieved,  he  had  thrown  himself  back  into 
the  fight  for  reform  with  a  desperate  vigor  which  en 
tirely  eclipsed  all  his  previous  efforts. 

"  We-ell,"  he  said  in  answer  to  Varney's  question, 
"  we  're  humping  along  —  just  humping  along. 
Time  's  so  confoundedly  short,  though.  You  know, 
Larry,  this  business  the  other  night  is  proving  the  best 
card  we  've  got.  Fact.  I  have  n't  tried  to  tell  you 


VARNEY   FAILS   TO   DIE  313 

how  worked  up  the  people  have  been  about  your  — 
accident,  and  how  most  of  them  don't  stand  for  it  for 
a  minute.  It 's  pretty  well  understood  around  town 
that  politics  was  back  of  it  all  in  some  way,  though  no 
body  can  state  a  single  fact,  and  I  've  scoured  the  town 
for  evidence  without  finding  a  scrap.  Anyway,  it 's 
the  solemn  fact,  and  the  committee  can  prove  it,  that 
that  feeling  is  bringing  over  a  lot  of  votes  that  we 
never  could  have  reached  otherwise  with  a  long  distance 
'phone." 

"  Praise  be  that  they  're  coming  over,  anyhow." 
'  This  fight,"  continued  Peter,  absorbedly,  "  is  con 
foundedly  interesting  because  it  is  typical  of  what 's 
going  on  all  over  the  country.  Hunston  is  just  a  dingy 
little  microcosm  of  the  whole  United  States  of  Amer 
ica.  You  can't  blame  these  poor  beggars  here  much, 
afraid  of  their  jobs  as  they  are.  It  takes  courage  to 
make  a  break  for  virtue  when  the  devil 's  holding  you 
by  your  bread  and  meat.  But  —  well,  I  'd  hate  like  the 
mischief  to  lose,  particularly  since  we  Ve  managed  to 
come  in  for  such  a  beautiful  lot  of  limelight.  You 
know  this  fight  is  being  watched  all  over  the  country, 
since  that  trouble?  And  hang  it,  it  does  make  a  differ 
ence  when  the  Associated  Press  carries  half  a  column 
about  you  every  night.  Do  you  remember  that  first 
night  in  Hunston,  Larry,"  he  continued,  "  when  you 
said  that  our  part  in  the  town's  affairs  must  be  that  of 
quiet  onlookers  only?  Quiet  onlookers!  And  now 
everybody  in  the  country  is  playing  quiet  onlookers  on 
us.  Our  names  are  household  words  in  California,  and 
I  'm  credibly  informed  that  they  're  naming  babies 


3i4       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

after  you  all  through  the  middle  West.  Funny,  is  n't 
it?"  ' 

Varney  assented  with  a  laugh.  Presently  he  said 
rather  constrainedly :  "  Peter  —  I  want  you  to  tell  me 
a  little  about  that  night.  Who  was  caught?  " 

Peter  named  the  two.  "  They  would  n't  testify,"  he 
explained,  "  and  I  could  n't.  Old  Orrick  was  the  only 
man  I  spotted.  He  will  get  punished  for  assault.  I 
don't  see  that  they  've  got  a  case  against  British.  He 
was  knocked  out  when  the  porch  fell,  and  he  had  n't 
done  a  thing  then,  except  yell  probably.  You  can't 
hang  a  man  for  yelling  in  this  State." 

"  No.     Did  you  —  you  —  was  anybody  killed  ?  " 

"Bless  your  heart,  no!"  cried  Peter.  "Why,  it 
was  only  a  little  old  kicking-match  and  hair-pulling, 
you  know,  hardly  worse  than  a  college  rush." 

Varney  looked  suddenly  and  strangely  relieved. 

"  I  'm  mighty  glad  to  hear  that,"  he  said,  and  pres 
ently  added  :  "  Have  you  seen  —  Smith?  " 

"  Smith !  He  went  to  New  York  some  days  ago. 
I  remember  —  it  was  the  very  day  you  pulled  up  and 
got  well.  Why,  what  about  him  ?  " 

"  Did  n't  you  know  ?  He  was  there  that  night,"  said 
Varney.  "  Right  in  the  thick  of  it,  helping  me." 

"  Helping  you!     Smith!" 

Varney  nodded.  "  The  minute  they  closed  in  on 
me,"  he  said  after  a  moment,  "  and  we  all  bunched  to 
gether,  I  felt  that  there  was  somebody  in  there  fight 
ing  on  my  side.  Pretty  soon  I  heard  a  voice  in  my  ear, 
it  said :  '  Keep  on  your  pins  as  long  as  you  can:  these 
dogs  'II  trample  you  if  they  get  you  down.'  I  said, 


VARNEY   FAILS   TO   DIE  315 

'  Is  that  you,  Smith  ?  '  and  he  laughed  and  said,  '  Still 
on  my  studies.'  Then  somebody  hit  me  over  the  head 
with  something,  and  I  went  down  and  he  went  with  me. 
He  had  one  arm  around  me,  I  remember.  I  've  been 
thinking,  ever  since  I  could  think  at  all,  that  they  might 
—might  have  finished  him.  I  believe  he  saved  my  life, 
Smith  did." 

"  Well  —  bully  for  him !  "  said  Peter  slowly,  much 
impressed.  "  What  on  earth  struck  him  to  do  that,  do 
you  suppose  ?  Well,  well !  I  '11  certainly  look  that  old 
boy  up  in  New  York  and  shake  him  by  the  hand." 

There  was  a  considerable  silence.  At  just  the 
moment  when  Varney  was  about  to  put  another  ques 
tion,  Peter  opened  his  mouth  and  answered  it. 

"  However,"  he  said,  an  irrepressible  note  of  irrita 
tion  creeping  into  his  honest  voice,  "  even  that  was  not 
the  strangest  thing  that  happened  that  night.  Not  by 
a  long  shot." 

Varney's  gaze  fixed  with  sudden  interest.  "  Hig- 
ginson?  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  he  turned  up?  " 

"  I  do.  And  got  away  with  it  again  —  confound  his 
soul!" 

"What  happened?  Any  more  dirty  work?  Did 
anything  get  into  the  papers  ?  " 

"  No  —  oh,  no !  You  've  got  that  sized  up  wrong, 
Larry.  He  's  no  yellow  journalist  or  anything  like  that. 
He  's  only  the  slickest  underground  worker  this  town 
ever  saw  —  with  his  confounded  apologetic,  worried- 
looking  mask  of  a  face.  As  for  more  dirty  work  — 
well,  I  guess  the  bloodshed  the  other  night  scared  him 
up  so  —  " 


316       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

"  But  go  on  and  tell  me !  Where  'd  you  see  him  ? 
What  did  you  say  and  —  " 

"  Sitting  in  our  front  parlor,  if  you  please,  like  a 
dear  old  friend  of  the  family." 

The  remembrance  of  the  way  he  had  been  affronted 
and  outwitted  chafed  Peter's  spirit  uncontrollably.  He 
rose  and  began  pacing  up  and  down  the  little  porch, 
hands  thrust  deep  into  his  trousers  pockets. 

"  About  an  hour  after  we  put  you  to  bed,"  he 
exploded,  "  I  slipped  downstairs  to  tell  Hare  to  keep 
everybody  off  the  place.  However,  a  lot  of  people  had 
already  come  in.  I  glanced  in  at  the  parlor  and  it 
seemed  full  of  them  —  Mrs.  Carstairs  and  Mrs.  Marne 
—  they  were  the  first  to  get  here  after  Hare's  delega 
tion — Hammerton  and  another  man  from  the  Gazette, 
the  committeemen,  and  several  I  'cl  never  laid  eyes  on 
before.  Well,  there  in  a  corner,  looking  like  a  hired 
mourner  at  a  nigger  funeral,  sat  that  fellow  Higginson. 
You  could  have  knocked  me  flat  with  a  pin  feather. 
I  'm  as  sure  as  I  stand  here  that  it  was  he  who  worked 
up  that  mob  for  Ryan,  and  the  whole  dirty  scheme  — 
and  then  coming  around  with  his  tongue  in  his  cheek  to 
inquire  after  the  victim!  Can  you  beat  that  gall?  " 

"Not  easily.     What  happened?" 

"  They  asked  me  how  you  were.  I  told  'em.  Then 
I  said  before  the  room-full :  '  I  was  very  sorry  to 
find  you  out  this  afternoon,  Mr.  Higginson,  when  I 
called  at  your  hotel.'  The  fellow  looked  white  as  a 
sheet  and  mumbled  something  I  could  n't  catch. 
Well  —  I  could  n't  smash  him  there  before  all  the 
women,  so  I  said :  '  Please  don't  go  away  this  time 


VARNEY   FAILS   TO   DIE  317 

until  I  see  you.  I  'm  most  anxious  to  have  a  little  pri 
vate  conversation  with  you.'  Oh,  of  course  that  was  a 
mistake  —  I  hate  to  think  about  it !  But  —  well,  I 
was  a  good  deal  worried  just  then,"  he  explained, 
rather  sheepishly,  "  and  fact  is,  for  the  minute  I  was  n't 
thinking  very  much  about  Higginson.  I  need  n't  add 
that  he  had  sneaked  when  I  came  down  again.  Had 
the  cheek  to  leave  behind  a  message  with  Hare  saying 
he  regretted  to  miss  me,  but  felt  it  his  duty  to  escort 
the  ladies  home." 

Varney,  though  he  had  grounds  for  animosity  which 
Peter  never  even  guessed,  laughed  aloud.  But  it  was  a 
brief  laugh,  which  quickly  faded. 

"  And  he  's  never  been  seen  or  heard  of  from  that 
day  to  this  ?  Well,  for  my  part,"  he  went  on,  rather 
constrainedly,  "  I  'm  almost  ready  to  believe  the  man  's 
a  myth  —  a  mere  personification  of  evil  —  an  alle 
gorical  name  for  the  powers  of  darkness  — 

"Myth!"  cried  Peter.  "You'll  see!  Why,  he's 
certain  to  turn  up  again,  Larry  —  absolutely  certain. 
You  could  n't  keep  him  away  with  a  flock  of  cannon. 
If  he  does  n't  come  before,  it 's  dead  sure  that  he  '11 
appear  among  us  again  on  election  day  —  four  days 
from  now  —  just  to  see  the  results  of  his  pretty  work. 
And  when  he  does  — 

"  Well  ? "  said  Varney,  amused  through  his  own 
heartsoreness  by  Peter's  vehemence.  "  When  he 
does?" 

"  I  've  got  two  men  watching  every  train,  day  and 
night,"  said  Peter.  "  When  Higginson  sets  foot  in 
this  town  again,  one  man  trails  him,  and  the  other  runs 


3i8       CAPTIVATING   MARY    CARSTAIRS 

for  me.  .  .  .  Well,  I  'm  a  generous  and  forbearing 
man,  Larry,  and  I  recall  that  you  have  n't  had  much 
fun  here.  I  '11  —  yes,  hang  it  all !  —  I  '11  bring  the  old 
rogue  to  you,  dead  or  alive,  and  stand  by  in  silence 
while  you  speak  him  your  little  piece." 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

IN    WHICH    VARNEY,    AFTER    ALL,    REDEEMS    HIS 
PROMISE 

From  the  roaring  ovation  which  followed  Peter's 
brief  remarks  there  emerged  again  the  sudden,  clean- 
cut  silence.  Mayor  Hare  —  Mayor  by  the  narrowest 
margin  in  the  heaviest  vote  ever  cast  in  that  town  — 
stood  upon  the  improvised  little  stand  and  looked  out 
over  the  packed  square.  He  rested  one  small  hand 
upon  the  gay-clothed  rail,  and  many  people  saw  that 
it  quivered.  The  showy  "  demonstration  "  of  Peter's 
planning,  brilliantly  launched  the  moment  the  count 
was  announced  —  the  imported  brass-band,  the  tri 
umphal  procession  with  the  bugles,  the  streamers  and 
the  flag-wrapped  carriages,  and  now  the  rostrum  ready 
set  and  waiting  in  the  heart  of  the  dense  crowd  —  all 
had  taken  him  completely  by  surprise.  His  face  showed 
it;  yet  he  was  not  thinking  of  that  exactly.  All  at 
once  the  Mayor's  mind  had  harked  back  to  another 
moment,  not  so  many  days  before,  when  he  had  stood 
in  this  square  to  make  a  speech ;  and  at  the  rushing 
thought  of  the  great  contrast  between  that  moment  and 
this,  there  rose  in  him  a  sense  of  gratefulness  so  deep 
that  it  took  palpable  form,  and  stuck,  suffocatingly,  in 
his  throat. 


320       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

The  square  swam  before  his  blinded  eyes.  He  took 
off  his  glasses  and  wiped  them  frankly.  Stiff  formality 
left  him,  without  a  nod  at  parting,  carrying  along  the 
"  few  remarks  "  he  had  nervously  thrown  together  in 
his  Roman  progress  up  Main  Street. 

'  The  modesty  of  the  man  who  has  just  addressed 
you,"  he  began  unsteadily,  "  will  deceive  no  one.  You 
all  know  what  I  owe  to  him  —  what  our  town  owes  to 
him.  You  all  know  that  if  I  am  almost  too  proud 
and  too  happy  to  speak  at  all  just  now,  it  is  because  a 
kindly  chance  sent  Mr.  Maginnis  to  Hunston." 

Cheers,  more  cheers,  and  yet  again  cheers;  cheers 
running  on  and  on  as  though  they  never  meant  to  stop ; 
spontaneous  waves  of  applause  that  meant,  what  nearly 
all  knew,  that  Maginnis  personally  had  captured  Hun 
ston,  and  that  his  efficiency  with  a  chair-leg  had  reared 
him  into  a  kind  of  demi-god  among  certain  rough 
fellows  of  the  baser  sort. 

The  speaker  was  resuming,  not  yet  through  with  his 
tributes.  His  eye  flitting  over  the  shouting  crowd  had 
fallen  upon  a  face. 

"  I  know  that  both  honesty  and  logic  were  on  the 
side  which  Mr.  Maginnis,  coming  here  a  stranger, 
elected  to  support.  But  honesty  does  not  always  make 
a  winning  cause,  nor  does  logic.  What  I  may  call  sym 
pathy  is  often  better  than  both.  The  splendid  help  that 
we  got  from  Mr.  Maginnis  received  this  supplement. 
Sympathy  came  to  aid  Reform.  A  brutal  outrage  sul 
lied  the  name  of  our  town  —  an  outrage  which,  there  is 
sad  reason  to  believe,  was  born  of  politics.  The  victim 
of  that  outrage,  and  the  hero  of  that  terrible  night,  is 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      321 

happily  with  us  to-day.  ...  I  will  not  offend  him 
with  any  words  of  praise.  But  may  I  not  say  in  the 
market-place  what  is  the  truism  of  the  committee- 
room  .  .  .  that  when  this  gentleman  did  what  he  did. 
he  brought  to  Reform  the  sympathy  which  .  .  .  has 
made  me  Mayor  of  Hunston." 

Every  eye  followed  the  direction  of  the  speaker's 
glance  and  his  grave  bow ;  and  by  the  chance  of  good 
position,  it  happened  that  nearly  all  could  see.  Upon 
a  dingy  porch,  a  few  yards  up  the  Main  Street  side  of 
the  square,  stood  a  tall,  young  man  leaning  on  a  cane, 
a  wide  felt  hat  shading  a  rather  badly  marked  face. 
And  —  there  was  no  possibility  of  any  mistake  —  it 
was  Jim  Hackley's  porch  that  he  stood  upon,  and  —  yes 
-  it  was  Jim  Hackley  himself,  a  sober  and  genial  Jim 
Hackley,  who  stood  by  his  side,  in  intimate  pose,  and 
grinning  somewhat  sheepishly  into  the  glare  of  fame 
which  suddenly  enveloped  him. 

What  part  Hackley  had  borne  in  the  events  to  which 
the  orator  had  referred  was  never  officially  known, 
but  it  may  be  said  without  exaggeration  that  there  had 
been  suspicions  abroad  against  him.  His  present 
friendliness  with  the  victim  of  those  events,  therefore, 
seemed  the  gauge  and  symbol  of  penitence  and  recon 
ciliation. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  Hunston  had  seen  Varney 
since  the  night  he  was  hurt,  and  the  first  time  that  most 
of  Hunston  had  ever  seen  him.  The  story  of  his  deeds 
and  his  sufferings,  doubtless  considerably  embellished 
and  known  to  every  one,  made  him  a  figure  of  keen 
popular  interest,  and  the  cheers  and  hand-clappings  now 


322       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

were  thunderous,  compelling  him  to  lift  his  hat  again 
and  again.  Some  even  started  a  swift  descent  upon  the 
Hackley  residence  with  the  evident  intention  of  carry 
ing  the  young  man  to  the  stand  on  their  shoulders.  But 
Hackley  came  down  to  his  gate  to  meet  them  and  buf 
feted  them  away,  explaining  loudly,  like  an  old  friend 
and  generally  acknowledged  sponsor :  "  He  ain't  up  to 
it  to-day,  boys !  Stand  back !  " 

"  Go  on  with  your  speech,"  said  Peter  in  a  fierce 
undertone  to  Hare.  "  He  's  going  to  faint." 

"  Let  us  give  honor  to  whom  honor  is  due,"  cried 
Hare,  hastily,  and  so  resumed  his  remarks. 

Peter's  melancholy  prediction,  though  it  spread 
quickly  among  the  crowd  after  Varney  left  the  porch, 
was  quite  unfounded.  Varney  had  not  the  least  idea 
of  fainting.  At  Hare's  tribute,  which  was  as  unex 
pected  as  he  felt  it  to  be  totally  undeserved,  and  the 
sudden  rain  of  eyes  upon  him,  an  unaccountable  dizzi 
ness  had  seized  him,  while  he  stood  reluctantly  bowing; 
he  had  thrust  out  his  hand  and  caught  hold  of  the  post. 
This  blackness  passed  as  quickly  as  it  had  come.  The 
next  instant  he  felt  as  fit  a  man  as  ever;  and  to  the 
tender  requests  of  his  host,  Mr.  Hackley,  that  he 
should  withdraw  into  the  house  for  a  "  leetle  rest-up," 
he  returned  a  laughing  refusal.  For  this  was  his  last 
appearance  in  Hunston,  as  well  as  his  first  in  recent 
days,  and  very  strongly  did  he  desire  to  make  it  testify 
to  his  warm  interest  in  the  town's  great  day  and  the 
personal  triumph  of  his  friend,  Peter  Maginnis. 

What  removed  Varney  so  abruptly  from  the  Hack- 
ley  porch  and  the  public  view  was  the  sudden  fulfil- 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      323 

ment  of  quite  another  prediction  of  Peter's:  the  one 
about  the  return  to  Hunston  of  the  gum-shod  Mr. 
Higginson. 

The  news  came  without  warning.  At  just  the  mo 
ment  when  the  Mayor  replunged  into  his  interrupted 
oratory,  Varney  became  aware  that  a  low,  anxious 
voice  behind  him  \vas  insistently  calling  his  name.  He 
turned,  and  saw  the  figure  of  a  man  standing  in  Hack- 
ley's  entryway,  just  inside  the  door;  he  had  evidently 
slipped  in  from  the  rear;  and  now,  catching  the  young 
man's  eye,  he  began  mysteriously  beckoning  and  making 
signs. 

"  Kin  I  speak  to  you  a  minute,  Mr.  Varney?"  he 
called  in  the  same  dramatic  whisper. 

Varney,  in  some  surprise,  advanced  to  the  doorway 
and  stepped  inside  the  entry  after  the  stranger  —  a 
poorly  dressed  fellow  with  an  unshaven  chin  and  a 
collarless  neck. 

"  Well  ?  What  do  you  want,  my  man  ?  And  how 
do  you  know  my  name  ?  " 

At  that  the  man  gave  the  air  of  exploding,  though 
his  voice  remained  only  a  whisper,  at  once  apologetic 
and  immensely  reproachful. 

"Know  your  name,  sir!  Why,  excuse  me  for  usin' 
it  so  free,  but  I  guess  there  ain't  nobody  in  Hunston 
don't  know  you,  Mr.  Varney!  Why,  Mr.  Varney,  my 
six-year-old  kid  c'd  pick  you  right  out  o'  that  crowd 
out  there,  same  as  't  was  her  pa,  what  with  seein'  your 
picture  in  the  papers  an'  all,  an'  I  guess  there  ain't 
anything  you  'd  ever  want  in  Hunston  you  could  n't 
have  just  for  the  trouble  o'  namin'  it." 


324       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

The  random  assertion  struck  some  of  the  blood  from 
the  young  man's  cheek,  but  he  said  good-humoredly : 
"  Well,  I  'm  glad  to  hear  it.  But  tell  me  who  you  are, 
and  what  I  can  do  for  you." 

The  man's  face,  which  had  grown  rather  loose  and 
mobile,  instantly  became  business-like  and  alert. 

"I'm  'Lije  Stobo,  Mr.  Varney  —  Hackley '11  tell 
you.  I  was  hired  a  week  ago  by  Mr.  Maginnis  to 
watch  trains  for  a  certain  party  kind  of  expected  to 
show  up  here."  His  voice,  already  very  low,  dropped 
several  tones  lower,  as  he  hurriedly  went  on :  "  Well, 
Mr.  Varney,  the  party  come  in  on  Number  14  just 
now.  It  ain't  five  minutes  ago  since  he  stepped  down 
on  the  deepo  platform  —  disguised  in  some  pretty  good 
glad  rags,  he  was,  but  o'  course  we  spotted  him  right 
off,  and—" 

"Higginson?" 

The  man  nodded.  "  My  partner  was  with  me  — 
Gallery  —  and  we  shadows  our  party  to  the  Palace 
Hotel  where  he  takes  Room  41  and  sneaks  upstairs. 
Gallery  's  sitting  in  the  lobby  now,  and  I  runs  out  to 
take  the  tip  to  Mr.  Maginnis  —  but  Lord  bless  you, 
Mr.  Varney  -  He  pointed  out  the  open  door  in  the 
direction  of  the  little  speaker's  stand  where  Peter  sat 
impregnably  walled  in  on  all  sides  by  dense  human 
masses.  "  It  might  be  an  hour  before  I  could  get  to 
him  through  that.  I  was  up  against  it,  f'r  he  'd  sure 
kill  me  if  I  let  our  party  give  us  the  slip  again,  and 
then  I  heard  'em  all  cheerin'  you,  and  thinks  I,  there  's 
my  man,  and  —  " 

Varney  interrupted  gratefully  but  briskly. 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      325 

"  You  did  exactly  right,  Mr.  Stobo.  I  have  long 
been  anxious  to  see  Mr.  —  that  is,  this  party.  In  fact," 
he  added,  putting  on  his  hat  with  significant  firmness, 
"  it  is  because  of  some  business  that  I  have  with  this 
party  that  Mr.  Maginnis  asked  you  to  look  out  for 
him." 

Mr.  Stobo's  eyes  ardently  approved  the  young  man's 
readiness  for  "  trouble." 

"  Well,  sir  —  that 's  took  a  load  off'n  my  mind,  I 
tell  you!  I'll  just  skip  on  —  will  I,  Mr.  Varney?  — 
and  try  to  get  the  tip  to  Mr.  Maginnis,  as  my  orders 
was.  He  was  that  set  on  interviewin'  this  here  party  — 
but  Lor',  he  'd  give  him  to  you,  same  's  himself.  Only 
—  are  you  sure  you  're  feelin'  up  to  it  to-day,  Mr. 
Varney?  If  mebbe  you'd  let  me 'r  Gallery  go  along 
now,  just  in  case,  y'  know  - 

Varney  gave  an  answer  which  Mr.  Stobo  found  com 
pletely  reassuring.  At  the  same  time,  he  rapidly  pro 
duced  his  pocket-book  and  pulled  out  a  bill  of  alluring 
complexion. 

"  I  owe  you  a  great  deal  for  bringing  me  this  infor 
mation,  Mr.  Stobo  —  more  than  I  can  repay.  But 
perhaps  you  would  let  me  — " 

He  stopped  suddenly,  for  the  man  had  started  backing 
off  down  the  entry  way,  a  dull  unaccustomed  color 
showing  in  his  grimy  face. 

"  You  did  n't  mean  it,  Mr.  Varney !  Why,  how  '  d 
I  look  my  missus  in  the  face  —  let  alone  myself  —  and 
tell  her  I  took  money  off'n  you  — ' 

He  disappeared  out  of  the  back  door,  and  Varney, 
feeling  uncomfortable  and  disproportionately  touched, 


326       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

put  his  spurned  bill  back  in  his  pocket.  Hackley,  now 
perceiving  that  his  guest's  visitor  was  gone,  turned  his 
back  on  the  speechmaking  and  hurried  forward  so 
licitously. 

"  I  could  'a'  hit  that  Stobo  sneakin'  in  a-botherin' 
and  a-'noyin'  yon,"  he  said  in  tones  of  great  sympathy. 
"  I  know  how  it  is,  Mr.  Varney.  Bit  of  a  inverlid 
myself,  I  am  —  no  health  and  no  constitootion  what- 
somever,  sir.  Feelin'  a  leetle  stidclier  now,  are  you? 
Better  lie  down  on  my  parlor  sofy  a  while  and  git 
rested  up  nice,  had  n't  ye  ?  —  many  's  the  day  I  've 
lazied  there,  Lord  knows,  tryin'  f'r  to  coddle  my 
strength  back." 

Varney  regretfully  declined  the  offer.  In  fact,  he 
must  be  going  at  once,  he  said,  as  he  had  a  rather 
important  business  engagement ;  and  would  Mr.  Hack- 
ley  kindly  show  him  the  quiet  back-exit  to  the  street 
and  the  outer  world? 

Hackley,  a  tireless  host,  re-urged  the  charms  of  his 
sofy  and  cool  well-water  for  invalids;  but  his  guest 
remained  politely  firm.  So  there,  on  the  little  rear 
veranda,  the  two  men  parted  with  mutual  esteem : 
Varney  expressing  sincere  thanks  for  all  Mr.  Hack- 
ley's  courtesies ;  Hackley  compassionate  over  Mr.  Var- 
ney's  impaired  constitution,  but  boggling  over  what 
regrets  might  haply  betray  him  into  the  grip  of  the 
law's  long  arm. 

Varney  traversed  the  clothes-hung  backyard,  came 
out  into  the  d'ingy  alley,  and  made  rapidly  for  the 
cross-street,  where  a  string  of  carriages  showed  that 
"  the  quality  "  of  Hunston  was  not  without  interest 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      327 

in  the  day's  proceedings.  He  did  not  see  the  carriages ; 
to  himself  he  seemed  suddenly  to  walk  in  a  great  and 
silent  solitude.  There  was  noise  enough  about  him, 
in  all  conscience,  for  every  sentence  that  fell  from 
Hare's  lips  was  punctuated  by  a  salvo;  but  the  tumult 
beat  itself  to  stillness  against  the  closed  fastness  of  his 
mind. 

Under  his  eye,  half  way  down  the  block  to  which 
he  drew  near,  rose  the  weatherworn  flank  of  the  Palace 
Hotel.  Somewhere  within  the  ugly  pile  was  his  mortal 
enemy  Higginson,  trapped  to  his  reckoning  at  last. 
Within  five  minutes  they  two  would  stand  face  to  face ; 
and  he  had  long  since  promised  himself  that  Higginson 
would  remember  the  meeting  for  as  long  as  he  lived. 
A  moment  ago,  the  thought  had  filled  him  with  a 
strange  exhilaration :  the  prospect  of  a  final  accounting 
with  the  intriguing  fly-by-night  who  had  wronged  him 
past  all  forgiveness  had  set  his  blood  to  leaping.  But, 
exactly  because  that  wrong  went  so  deep,  his  pleasur 
able  excitement  ebbed  faster  than  it  had  mounted. 
The  wound  that  he  had  had  from  Higginson  was  one 
that  no  vengeance  would  heal.  And  with  the  recur 
rence  of  this  knowledge  his  battle-joy  flickered  and 
went  out  like  a  spent  match,  and  the  little  alley  was  a 
war-list  no  longer  but  a  stretch  without  end  of  dry 
and  dusty  years.  .  .  . 

"  I  was  lookin'  for  yer,  Mist'  Varney,"  said  a  husky, 
abashed  voice. 

Varney  stared  down  at  the  small  apparition  before 
him  with  momentary  unrecognition. 

"  Why  -  -  Tommy !  Heaven  bless  us !  Where  did 
you  spring  from,  boy?" 


328       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

Tommy's  eyes  fell  in  awe,  but  sure  enough,  he  was 
sticking  out  his  small  flipper  in  salutation.  In  fact, 
he  had  shaken  hands  a  number  of  times  since  that  first 
memorable  occasion,  and,  in  his  way,  was  gradually 
beginning  to  catch  the  spirit  of  the  thing. 

"  Kem  up  on  the  two- forty-five.  Wit'  Hauser's 
band.  Got  a  loan  of  t'ree  bucks  off  a  frienV 

"  The  mischief  you  did!  Where  do  you  find  friends 
like  that  nowadays?  But  what  on  earth  made  you 
pop  back  here?  To  hear  Hauser's  play  and  see  all  the 
fireworks?  " 

Tommy  examined  his  toe  with  affected  interest  and 
shook  his  head. 

"  What  then?    Don't  you  like  it  in  New  York?  " 

"  Yasser.  Noo  York  's  all  right,  it  is."  And  reluc 
tantly  he  added :  "  You  be'n  sick,  ain't  you  ?  Thought 
I  'd  come  and  see  how  you  was  makin'  it.  Come  afore 
now,  on'y  I  could  n't  get  next  to  de  price." 

"  Tommy,"  said  Varney,  snuggling  the  boy's  left 
hand  into  his  own  right  and  resuming  the  promenade, 
"  you  're  a  mighty  good  friend  to  me." 

They  emerged  into  the  street  where  a  double  line  of 
vehicles,  some  of  them  gay  with  bright  hats  and  par 
asols,  flanked  the  curb  on  either  side,  and  Varney 
turned  north,  his  back  to  the  square,  unconscious  of  the 
many  curious  glances  that  were  flung  at  him  as  he 
passed. 

"  Tommy,"  said  Varney,  "  I  'm  bound  for  the  hotel 
on  business,  but  I  'm  not  going  to  pull  you  a\vay  from 
all  the  fun—" 

"  Wut,  that?    That  ain't  no  fun,  sir." 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS    PROMISE      329 

"  Don't  you  suppose  I  know  fun  when  I  meet  it  in 
the  road,  you  little  rascal?  You  stay  here  till  it's  all 
over  and  then  I  want  you  to  come  down  to  the  yacht, 
and  we  '11  have  some  dinner.  Then  I  '11  put  you  up 
for  the  night  and  to-morrow  morning  we  '11  go  to  New 
York  together,  eh?  How's  that?" 

But  Tommy  said :  "  Nawser.  We  can't  go  yet. 
Somebody  sent  me  to  bring  you.  We  got  a  car'dge 
here  — " 

"  A  carriage?  " 

"  A  victori',"  emphasized  Tommy. 

"  A  victoria !  All  this  on  three  bucks,  Tommy ! 
Well,  well!  You  are  the  spender,  though." 

"  Here  's  our  victori' !  "    said  Tommy  proudly. 

They  halted  abruptly  before  an  open  carriage  .  .  . 
a  victoria,  indeed :  a  handsome  double  victoria,  all  pol 
ished  dark  wood  and  blue  upholstery  and  shining  nick 
eled  harness,  and  sleek  bay  horses.  This  he  saw  in  the 
first  flash,  wondering  by  what  miracle  Tommy  Orrick 
had  secured  control  of  so  glorious  an  equipage.  And 
then  .  .  .  there  was  the  pretty  edge  of  a  furbelowed 
skirt  upon  the  carriage-floor  ...  a  dainty  patent- 
leather  toe  upon  the  foot-rest  ...  an  unrolling  pano 
rama  of  white-gloved  hands,  pale  buff  dress,  great 
plumed  hat,  eyes  not  seen  yet  known  to  be  blue  to 
match  the  upholstery  ...  an  exquisite  lady  sitting  in 
the  victoria.  And  this  lady  had  recognized  his  pres 
ence,  first  with  a  faint  frightened  "Oh!"  and  then 
with  a  movement  of  those  great  hat-plumes  which  was 
beyond  all  doubt  or  cavil  a  bow  ...  a  bow  of  proper 
and  civil  greeting. 


330       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

For  him  that  meeting  was  stunning  in  its  entire 
unexpectedness.  The  landscape  went  off  in  protest, 
exploded  in  pyrotechnic  marvels;  the  earth  spun  and 
cavorted;  the  solar  system  was  disrupted  and  planets 
ran  amuck  with  din  unbelievable.  But  he  was  used  to 
these  cataclysms  now,  and  out  of  the  roar  of  breakage 
he  heard  a  voice  much  like  his  own  saying  pleasantly : 

"  Tommy  refers  to  this  calmly  as  his  carriage,  Miss 
Carstairs.  See  what  a  week  of  New  York  has  done 
for  him.  Where  did  he  disappear  to  —  did  you  notice  ? 
A  great  day  it  has  been"  —  in  the  rising  inflection  of 
farewell  —  "  has  n't  it  ?  " 

Came  out  of  space  in  answer,  like  a  fluttering  bird 
from  nowhere,  a  voice  that  had  once  seemed  music  in 
his  ears: 

"  I  sent  him  ...  to  look  for  you.  They  said  that 
you  were  .  .  .  ill.  Perhaps  you  would  let  us  drive 
you  to  the  river?  " 

"  And  make  you  miss  the  speech  ?  "  continued  this 
easy  and  agreeable  young  man,  whom  Laurence  Var- 
ney,  a  great  distance  off,  stood  dumbly  and  watched 
from  the  swirling  void  with  a  certain  remote  admi 
ration.  "  Of  course  not.  I  was  never  better  in  my 
life  and  the  walk  will  be  pleasant  on  so  nice  an  after 
noon.  But  thank  you  very  much." 

Again  his  tone  held  the  faint  inflection  of  finality, 
of  leave-taking.  Came  again  the  voice  like  tossed 
chimes  out  of  space: 

"Then  .  .  .  won't  you  stay  and  hear  the  end?  It 
would  please  Mr.  Hare.  From  this  carriage  .  .  .  you 
can  see  and  hear  everything  very  well." 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      331 

"  Thank  you,"  said  the  debonair  spirit,  rather  care 
lessly  —  while  Laurence  Varney,  off  in  another  world, 
clutched  at  the  invitation,  fought  for  it,  lied,  thieved, 
prayed,  lived  and  died  for  it  —  "I  'm  afraid  I  must 
go  on  now." 

"  There  is  something  I  wanted  to  say.  And  ...  a 
message." 

A  shuffling  of  the  cosmos,  a  shrieking  readjust 
ment  of  the  universe,  and  he  found  himself  sitting 
on  a  blue  upholstered  seat  staring  at  two  great 
golden  moons,  which  later  on  turned  out  to  be,  after 
all,  mere  burnished  buttons  upon  a  coachman's  purple 
back. 

So,  not  for  the  first  time,  the  sudden  meeting  with  a 
lady  knocked  from  the  young  man's  head  all  recollec 
tion  of  his  enemy.  And  if  their  parting  had  taken 
place  in  the  entire  privacy  of  a  country  road,  their 
re-meeting,  certainly,  was  in  the  fullest  view  of  the 
many.  Only,  luckily,  nobody  chanced  to  be  looking, 
or  within  eavesdropping  distance ;  and  even  the  coach 
man  presently  removed  himself  to  stand  at  his  horses' 
restive  heads.  Tommy's  carriage  happened  to  be  the 
last  one  in  the  line.  Behind  it  the  street  was  a  desert. 
Before  it  was  nothing  but  a  packed  army  of 
backs. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  you  were  here  until  Mr.  Hare 
spoke.  And  they  all  began  to  look.  .  .  ." 

"  Mr.  Hackley  especially  invited  me  to  share  his 
porch  ..."  and  the  other  Varney,  not  the  one  who 
sat  so  stiff  and  mute,  desperate  eyes  glued  on  the  far 
horizon,  but  the  easy,  negligent  Varney,  gay  dare-devil 


332       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

that  he  was,  actually  achieved  a  pleasant  laugh.  "  I 
must  show  you  his  note.  It 's  been  a  long  time  since  I 
have  had  anything  to  please  me  so  much." 

He  unfolded  and  held  out  into  the  blue  empyrean 
a  rather  soiled  bit  of  paper,  which  a  small  white-gloved 
hand  descended  from  heaven  like  a  dove  and  took. 
Then,  presumably,  this  was  duly  read: 

MR.  VARNEY.  dear  sir:  Announcment  of  Election  will 
be  made  in  the  Squair  this  p.  m.  around  6  p.  m.  Would 
feel  onered  if  you  would  come  to  my  Poarch  where  ever- 
think  can  be  seen  &  heard  &  no  crouding,  Josle  ect. 
Will  call  at  your  Yot  with  horse  and  Bugy  around  5  p.  m. 
this  p.  m.  if  agreble  though  you  don't  nead  no  eskort  an>- 
wairs  in  Hunston,  the  Unfortunit  inistaik  having  been 
diskovered.  Noing  your  intrest  in  our  Poltix  will  add 
that  I  voated  for  Mister  Hair,  first  think  this  a.  m.  with 
sorro  for  the  Past  and  hoapes  for  your  Speady  con- 
vlessense, 

Resp. 

J.  HACKLEY. 

S.  P.  —  Should  you  come  to  my  Poarch  all  would  no  as 
bygorns  was  bygorns. 

"Wasn't  that  kind  of  him?"  he  asked  when  the 
note  had  again  come  down  into  the  ornamental  lap, 
which  was  the  upper  line  of  his  range  of  vision.  "  And 
thoughtful.  But  then  everybody  has  been  so  wonder 
fully  kind  to  me.  I  think  I  shall  remember  Hunston 
as  altogether  the  kindest  town  I  ever  saw." 

There  was  quite  a  silence  after  that. 

"  I  am  like  Jim,"  came  the  voice  beside  him,  troubled 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      333 

chimes  waving  bravely,  "  in  having  wronged  you  by 
...  an  unfortunate  mistake.  You  have  forgiven 
him,  have  n't  you  ...  let  bygones  be  bygones  ? 
Can  you  do  as  much  .  .  .  for  me  ?  " 

"  Don't,"  he  begged  with  sudden  hoarseness  —  and 
there  the  mannersome  insouciant  Varney  waved  an  easy 
hand  and  blew  himself  away,  like  the  rascally  light  o' 
heels  he  was  —    "  I  have  to  ask  forgiveness  of  you  — 
not  give  it,"  he  said. 

'  You  have  much  to  forgive.     That  day  in  the  road 
-  I  was  angry.     I  was  not  just  .  .  .  not  fair.     I  am 
mortified  to  remember  .  .  .  what  I  said  to  you." 

His  heart  contracted  for  the  trouble  in  her  voice; 
his  spirit  made  obeisance  to  the  courage  which  carried 
her  so  perfectly  through  that  pretty  suit  for  pardon ; 
but  for  himself  — 

"  There  is  not  one  thing  —  believe  me  —  that  your 
goodness  can  reproach  itself  for  —  not  one  thing  for 
you  to  be  sorry  for.    If  you  have  forgiven  me  now  - 
for  all  that  you  had  to   forgive  —  I  go  away  quite 
happy." 

His  first  easy  composure,  which  far  outmatched  her 
own,  had  unsteadied  her.  His  wasted  and  scarred 
face,  which  she  had  been  quite  unprepared  for,  had 
shocked  her  inexpressibly.  And  now  there  was  this 
new  thought  knocking  at  the  door  of  her  mind  —  that 
he  was  going  away  quite  happy. 

"  There  was  something  else  I  wanted  to  tell  you 
...  if  you  could  wait  a  moment  .  .  .  some  news." 

He  turned  toward  her  with  a  movement  of  pleasant 
interest,  meant  to  verify  his  recent  gallant  promise; 


334       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

but  he  turned  so  quickly  that  his  face  had  no  time  to 
come  into  the  kindly  conspiracy,  and  no  triumph  of 
hyperbole  could  have  described  its  look  as  happy. 

"  Yes  ?    Good  news,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  I  won't  ...  be  cowardly  and  let  you  think  that 
this  was  accidental  .  .  .  my  seeing  you  .  .  .  and  tell 
ing  you  that  I  'm  sorry.  We  —  we  were  going  to 
drive  down  to  the  yacht  .  .  .  after  the  speeches  were 
over.  I  don't  understand  it  all  yet,  but  this  afternoon 
a  great  thing  happened.  There  came  a  letter  from  my 
father  .  .  .  and  everything  is  all  settled  now.  He 
.  .  .  wants  my  mother  .  .  .  more  than  me,  now. 
Why  should  n't  I  tell  you  ?  It  is  what  I  have  longed 
for  .  .  .  prayed  for  every  night  .  .  .  for  twelve 
years.  We  are  going  to  New  York  —  to-morrow  — 
to  see  my  father." 

His  great  gladness  at  that  made  him  forget  himself 
entirely,  and  for  the  first  time  he  could  look  at  her. 

"  Why,  I  can't  tell  you  how  glad  I  am !  How  tre 
mendously  happy  that  makes  me!  " 

She  sat  back  in  her  cushioned  seat,  still  as  a  sculptured 
lady,  hands  clasped  on  her  silken  lap,  eyes  gone  off 
down  the  street,  though  not  for  vision,  to  where  Hare 
was  thundering  a  splendid  peroration.  He  had  already 
become  aware,  without  looking  at  her,  that  she  was 
richly  and  beautifully  dressed;  but  he  was  hardly  pre 
pared  for  the  effect  which  such  a  setting  would  have 
upon  her  face.  For  all  his  conjuring  of  memory,  he 
had  forgotten  that  she  looked  quite  like  that.  .  .  . 

"  Yes  ...  it  makes  me  happy,  too.  And  iny 
mother  wants  to  ask  you  —  no,  I  do  —  that  is,  both 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      335 

of  us  want  to  ask  you  —  if  you  won't  allow  us  to  go 
down  ...  in  the  yacht?" 

Misunderstanding,  the  senseless  world  started  mad 
antics  again ;  but  Intelligence,  which  saw  more  clearly, 
reached  out  a  long  arm  and  jerked  it  firmly  back  on  its 
feet. 

"  Allow  you !  It 's  exactly  what  I  'd  like  most  im 
mensely.  She  's  all  ready  for  you  —  I  '11  have  my 
things  off  her  in  no  time  —  catch  the  eight-ten  to-night 
and  go  straight  to  congratulate  Uncle  Elbert.  How 
great  to  see  him  so  happy !  I  '11  run  right  down  to  the 
yacht  this  minute  and  attend  to  it." 

"  There  is  nothing  to  attend  to  ...  is  there?  You 
said  she  was  all  ready.  Of  course  we  could  not  let  you 
-  leave  her.  We  could  not  go  in  the  yacht  .  .  .  un 
less  you  will  go  with  us." 

But  speech  stuck  in  his  throat  like  a  bone  gone 
wrong.  She  would  get  no  help  from  him;  that  was 
evident.  If  suffering  had  wrought  miracles  of  abso 
lution,  she  alone  could  make  that  plain. 

"  You  came  to  Hunston  ...  to  take  me  to  my 
father  .  .  .  didn't  you?"  said  Mary  Carstairs. 
"Why  .  .  .  won't  you  do  it?" 

A  fugitive  wave  of  pallor  ran  up  her  cheek,  leaving 
its  white  trail  behind.  She  knew  now  that  she  had 
said  the  last  word  to  him  that  she  could  say,  and  that 
if  he  wanted  to  go  away,  he  must  go.  The  heavy 
curtain  of  her  lashes  fell,  veiling  her  eyes  .  .  .  but, 
as  it  chanced,  fell  slowly.  He  had  turned  at  her 
words,  very  quickly;  he  caught  the  curtain  half- 
drawn,  and  a  look  come  and  gone  like  an  arrow 


336       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

had  shot  through  those  windows  into  the  lit  place 
beyond. 

"  I  could  only  do  that,"  he  began  unsteadily  —  "I 

—  you  know  how  it  is  with  me  .  .  .     To  the  longest 

day  I  live  —  I  '11  love  you  .  .  .  with  every  breath  I 

draw.     I  could  not  do  that  —  unless  .  .  .     Will  you 

marry  me  ?  " 

The  stillness  about  them  then  was  like  a  tangible 
thing,  measureless  and  infinite.  But  into  it  faltered 
almost  at  once  that  voice  like  silver  bells. 

"If  you  're  perfectly  sure  you  want  me  to,"  said 
Mary  faintly. 

Her  eyes  met  his  in  a  wonderful  union,  divinely 
sealed  the  promise  of  her  lips,  stamped  it  forever  and 
ever  with  a  heavenly  stamp.  .  .  . 

The  bay  horses  curveted  and  pranced,  the  coachman 
sprang  to  his  seat,  a  big  red  motor  backed,  snorted, 
honked,  and  whizzed  past  them.  The  speechmaking 
was  over.  The  little  line  of  gay  carriages,  breaking 
itself  into  pieces,  was  maneuvering  for  rights  of  way 
homeward.  The  bay  horses,  turning,  too,  were  caught 
in  the  press  and  must  needs  go  slowly:  so  that  the 
whole  vivid  pageant  might  have  been  but  the  ordered 
setting  for  this  moment  —  for  Laurence  Varney  and 
the  girl  he  had  sworn  to  carry  home  to  her  father.  .  .  . 

In  the  square,  the  lingering  crowd,  attuned  to  cheer 
ing,  was  summoning  one  name  after  another  to  noisy 
felicitation.  Out  of  the  tumult  rose  one  persistent 
voice,  clamoring  a  changeless  request.  Yes,  it  was 
Hackley's  voice,  very  near,  evidently  on  his  own  front 
porch,  and  he  was  saying  over  and  over :  "  Lemme  ask 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      337 

you !  Lemme  ask  you !  "  And  about  the  moment  the 
victoria  —  Tommy's  victori'  (Tommy  himself,  if 
the  truth  be  known,  riding  snugly  on  the  back  springs 
at  that  very  moment) — got  safely  put  about,  Mr. 
Hackley  secured  what  public  notice  he  required  and 
divulged  the  nature  of  his  request. 

"  Fellers,  what 's  the  matter  with  Varney?  " 

Instantly  a  thousand  voices  pulverized  the  man's 
fatuous  anxiety.  Hard  after,  as  the  gallant  slogan 
swept  on  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  they  gave 
back  the  name  in  a  roar  like  the  rush  of  waters.  .  .  . 

But  the  man  for  whom  all  the  voices  strained  them 
selves  did  not  hear  their  doubt-destroying  response, 
tumultuous  though  it  was.  Another  voice,  close  beside 
him,  had  taken  up  that  refrain,  making  all  others  inau 
dible,  a  shy,  glad,  whispering  voice  of  chimes. 

"  He  's  all  right:' 

The  common  words  were  glorified  by  that  voice, 
made  over  into  a  sweet  and  solemn  benediction.  He 
sat  very  silent,  humbled  and  awred  by  the  revealed 
visage  of  his  own  great  happiness.  At  last  she  found 
courage  to  venture  a  look  at  him;  and  she  saw  that 
over  his  pale  and  disfigured  face  there  had  come  a  kind 
of  glory,  the  joy  of  sudden  peace  out  of  pain. 

Soon  he  spoke ;  and  his  words  at  first  seemed  to  her 
very  far  afield,  though  there  was  that  in  his  unsteadied 
voice  which  reassured  her  beyond  speech. 

"  Would  you  mind  stopping  at  the  hotel  —  only  a 
minute  ?  I  —  have  an  old  enemy  there,  and  I  feel  that 
I  must  see  him." 

"Oh,  no,  no!  —  must  you?     Oh,  please  —  I  can't 

22 


338       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

let  you  go  now!  And  I  am  afraid  —  afraid  of  what 
might  happen — " 

She  stopped  on  that,  somehow  gathering  without 
looking  at  him  that  she  had  not  followed  his  thought. 

"  I  want  to  take  him  by  the  hand,"  said  Varney, 
"  and  tell  him  that  it 's  all  right  now." 

There  was  a  light  carriage-robe  about  them,  for  the 
vanished  sun  had  left  the  breath  of  autumn  in  the  air; 
and  beneath  it  her  hand,  from  which  the  white  glove 
had  been  stripped,  touched  and  was  suddenly  gathered 
into  his  own.  A  glorious  tremble  shot  through  his 
body;  and  now  he  could  turn  his  shining  face  fully 
toward  her. 

"  You  are  n't  thinking  that  I  could  keep  an  enemy 
to-day! " 

As  the  carriage  stopped  before  the  hotel  entrance, 
he  added : 

"  And  I  must  tell  him  not  to  bother  Peter  any  more. 

You  see,  Peter  's  a  fine  man,  but  he  has  n't  got  my 

reasons  for  being  —  in  love  with  all  the  world.     I  —  I 

- 1  hate  to  go.  Our  first  parting  has  come  soon.    But 

—  this  is  a  duty,  and  —  and  —  good-bye  !  " 

She  never  forgot  the  look  upon  his  face. 

"Good-bye.    And  oh!  would  you  please  hurry?' 

With  an  herculean  effort  he  detached  himself  from 
the  carriage  and  rushed  into  the  hotel.  The  same 
bored-looking  clerk  was  sitting  behind  the  desk,  paring 
the  same  nails  with  the  same  office  scissors.  But  this 
time,  at  sight  of  Varney,  he  sprang  instantly  to  his 
feet,  all  smiles  and  eagerness  to  serve. 

"Why,    good    evening,    Mr.    Varney!      Well,    sir! 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      339 

You  're  lookin'  better  'n  we  expected,  and  I  tell  you 
Hunston  's  mighty  glad  to  see  you  up  and  about  again." 

Varney  marveled  how  he  had  ever  formed  such  a 
mean  opinion  of  the  clerk,  whom  he  now  saw  to  be  a 
decidedly  likable  young  man. 

"  Thank  you  —  thank  you !  It 's  a  wonderful  little 
city  —  Hunston  —  wonderful !  Try  a  few  of  these 
cigars  —  that 's  right ;  fill  your  pocket.  And  would 
you  be  good  enough  to  send  my  card  up  to  Mr.  Hig- 
ginson  ?  Perhaps  I  'd  better  write  just  a  line  - 

"  Mr.  Higginson  's  in  the  small  parlor,  Mr.  Varney 
-  straight  down  the  corridor.  Yes,  sir !  Just  came 
down  and  went  in  —  I  think  he  saw  you  coming  — 

"  And  ran  away  again  ?  Why,  bless  me,  what 's  the 
old  chap  afraid  of?" 

He  started  gayly  down  the  dim  hall  to  the  right  of 
the  desk,  swinging  his  stick  and  humming  to  himself ; 
and  presently  became  aware  that  a  man  was  following 
silently  at  his  elbow. 

"  It 's  me  —  Gallery,"  said  the  man  apologetically, 
as  Varney  turned.  "  I — I  '11  just  be  here,  Mr.  Varney, 
you  know,  if  anything  's  wanted." 

Varney  laughed  again.  "  You  're  mighty  good  to 
me,  Mr.  Gallery,"  he  said  cordially — "you  and  Mr. 
Stobo  —  I  can't  tell  you  how  much  I  appreciate  it.  But 
it  is  n't  a  bit  of  use,  you  know !  I  'm  positively  not 
going  to  kill  anybody  to-day." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  said  Gallery.  "  Here  's  the  door,  Mr. 
Varney." 

"This  one?" 

'  Yes,  sir.     He  come  runnin'  down  the  steps,  spoke 


340        CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

a  word  to  the  clerk,  and  then  he  dodges  down  here  and 
slams  the  door  behind  him.  Seen  you  through  the 
window,  I  guess  —  " 

"  Well,  I  '11  just  step  in  and  have  a  look  at  him,  Mr. 
Gallery.  Excuse  me  a  minute." 

He  rapped  on  the  closed  door  and  called  in  a  loud 
cheery  voice:  "Mr.  Higginson." 

"  Come  in,"  said  a  voice  from  within  —  a  rather 
agitated  voice  which  had  a  curiously  familiar  ring  in 
the  young  man's  ears. 

Varney  swung  open  the  door,  stepped  into  the  small 
parlor,  and  (greatly  to  the  disappointment  of  Mr. 
Callery)  closed  the  door  behind  him. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room,  staring  nervously  toward 
the  door,  stood  a  handsome  elderly  gentleman,  of  dis 
tinguished  presence  and  clothes  of  a  rather  notable 
perfection.  At  sight  of  him  the  young  man's  advance 
halted  in  utter  bewilderment,  and  he  fell  back  limply 
against  the  shut  door. 

But  the  elderly  gentleman  came  running  toward  him 
with  a  suppressed  cry,  and  seizing  the  young  man's 
hand  disarmingly  in  both  his  own,  threw  himself 
almost  hysterically  upon  his  apologia. 

"Can  you  forgive  me,  my  boy?  Ah,  I'll  confess 
that  I  've  dreaded  this  meeting,  while  longing  for  it, 
too!  You  look  badly  —  ah,  very  badly!  —  yet  —  not 
bitter,  not  resentful  —  thank  God,  not  unhappy!  My 
boy,  can  you  find  it  in  your  heart  to  forgive  an  old 
man  who  has  suffered  deeply  for  his  sins?  " 

Out  of  his  whirling  confusion,  his  insane  sense  of 
the  world  suddenly  gone  upside  down  and  the  familiar 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      341 

order  stood  upon  its  head,  the  young  man  laughed 
dazedly.  But  he  kept  tight  hold  of  the  old  one's  hand, 
and  fell  to  patting  it  with  wild  reassurance. 

"  Everything  's  all  right  —  all  right !  Yes,  indeed, 
sir.  Of  course !  But  I  don't  understand  —  I  don't 
grasp  —  I  came  here  looking  for  —  Are  you  —  you 
—  Mr.  Higginson?  " 

"  Ah,  you  had  n't  guessed  then  ?  And  yet  who  could 
wonder,  such  a  terrible,  frightful  mix-up  as  it  all 
became!  You  see,"  the  old  gentleman  hurried  on, 
lowering  his  gaze,  yet  already  recovering  something 
of  his  normal  composure,  "  you  had  scarcely  started 
before  I  —  I  became  strangely  uneasy  over  the  — 
seriousness  of  the  matter  and  the  possible  consequences, 
and  —  and  decided  that  I  had  best  come  on  myself  in 
-  in  a  private  manner,  merely  to  have  an  eye  on 
things.  Believe  me,  that  was  all  I  meant.  But  I  did 
not  dare  let  you  know  that  I  was  here,  even  in  that 
way,  having  promised  you  that  I  would  not  interfere, 
and  besides  —  I  feared  that  you  might  think  I  had  — 
ah  —  withheld  the  full  facts  about  —  her  age." 

In  an  access  of  nervous  self -consciousness,  the  old 
man's  voice  trailed  to  an  uncertain  pause ;  and  Varney 
comforted  him  with  .a  burst  of  bewildered  laughter. 

"  Forgive  my  glassy  stare  —  no  offence  intended, 
but  my  head  's  going  around,  Mr.  Higginson !  It 's 
all  still  nebulous,  you  know  —  topsy-turvy  —  incred 
ible  !  That  day  of  the  luncheon,  now  —  the  mysteri 
ous  warning  —  the  bribe  to  Ferguson  to  smash  up  the 
yacht  — " 

A  fine  flush  spread  over  the  old  man's  face  to  the 


342       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

roots  of  his  silvered  hair.  Yet  it  was  obvious  that  the 
young  man's  unaffected  cordiality  had  heartened  him 
immensely. 

"  Well,  you  see,  my  dear  boy,"  he  began,  embar- 
rassedly,  "  by  that  time  I  had  met  her  —  she  was  so 
sweet  to  me  from  the  start  —  and  I  began  to  hope  that 
such  heroic,  such  painful,  measures  might  not  be  neces 
sary.  Yet  perhaps  they  would  be,  after  all,  and  so  — 
ah,  I  did  wrong,  I  know  —  wrong !  —  and  yet  —  don't 
you  see  how  inevitably  it  all  came  about?  I  did  not 
dare  communicate  with  you,  begging  you  to  let  matters 
stand  a  few  days  —  fearing  that  upon  learning  of  my 
presence  you  would  simply  abandon  the  commission 
entirely,  and  God  knows  you  would  have  been  justified 
in  doing  so.  Yet  I  longed  to  postpone  the  —  the  final 
step,  holding  it  in  reserve,  in  the  ardent  hope  that  it 
might  be  avoided  entirely.  So  I  —  gave  instructions 
to  Ferguson.  It  was  wrong  not  to  trust  you,  and  oh, 
I  have  been  punished  for  it,  suffered  miserably  —  " 

"Dear  sir!  I'm  so  sorry!  But  that  is  all  past 
now  —  all  past  —  and  to-day  all 's  right  with  the 
world!" 

The  old  man's  hands  tightened  their  earnest  clasp. 
Tears  sprang  suddenly  into  his  fine  eyes. 

"  But  oh,  I  have  been  richly  blest,  too  —  far  beyond 
my  deserts !  The  night  that  you  were  hurt  —  I  came 
quite  unexpectedly  face  to  face  with  Mrs.  Carstairs  at 
the  cottage.  We  had  a  long  talk  that  night  —  a  won 
derful  talk,  which  gave  me  a  totally  new  point  of 
view,  brought  me  new  light  and  peace.  And  now  - 
everything  is  arranged,  and  if  you  have  truly  forgiven 


VARNEY   REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      343 

me,  I  am  happy  as  I  never  dreamed  for  happiness 
again." 

"Forgiven  you!  For  what,  dear  sir?  Why,  don't 
you  begin  to  guess  yet  what  you  have  done  for  me?  " 

He  tucked  the  old  man's  hand  masterfully  under  his 
arm,  and  drew  him  to  the  door. 

"  God  bless  you,  boy,  for  what  you  've  done  for  me 
and  mine.  But  —  where  —  where  are  we  going?" 

"  Out  into  the  world,"  said  Varney,  "  where  Mary 
Carstairs  is  waiting  for  you  and  me." 

"  But  —  but  —  I  feel  extremely  nervous  —  does  she 
know?" 

"  She  is  going  to  know  in  about  thirty  seconds,  and 
we  are  the  three  happiest  people  in  America." 

"  I  think,"  said  the  old  man  palely,  "  that  she  —  she 
likes  me  — " 

"  In  less  than  a  minute,"  said  the  young  one,  "  she 
is  going  to  love  you." 

His  voice  betrayed  him  a  little  on  the  words,  but 
he  instantly  recovered  his  poise,  and,  hand  on  the 
knob,  faced  the  other  with  his  gayest  smile. 

"  Tell  me,  Mr.  Higginson  —  did  you  skip  to  New 
York  that  afternoon,  when  Maginnis  and  I,  you  know, 
dashed  up  here  to  assassinate  you?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  handsome  old  intriguer  with  a 
nervous  cough,  "  yes,  I  —  you  see,  it  had  been  reported 
to  me  that  Mr.  Maginnis  had  threatened  to  horsewhip 
me  in  the  public  square,  after  my  attempt  to  buy  the 
paper  and  save  us  all  from  scandal.  So  naturally,  on 
the  afternoon  you  mention.  I  —  I  anticipated  trouble. 
However.  I  quietly  returned  to  Hunston  on  the  next 


344       CAPTIVATING  MARY   CARSTAIRS 

train  back,  going,  of  course,  to  a  different  hotel,  a  most 
dreadful  little  place — " 

Varney  shouted. 

"  It 's  just  as  Peter  said,  I  declare !  You  're  the 
noblest  plotter  of  them  all,  Mr.  Higginson.  Dear  old 
Hunston  will  not  look  upon  your  like  again." 

The  two  enemies  came  out  into  the  corridor  arm-in 
arm,  and  advanced  in  utter  amity  to  the  doonvay.  And 
as  they  walked,  Varney's  tongue  unloosed,  and  he  spoke 
his  still  incredible  happiness  aloud :  only,  because  he 
was  not  Latin  and  exuberant,  he  spoke  it  according  to 
the  indirect  uses  of  his  race. 

'  That  man  we  passed  standing  in  the  hall  —  the  one 
with  the  face  of  incredulity  and  chagrin  —  was  old 
Gallery  —  horribly  miffed  because  you  and  I  failed  to 
lock  in  mortal  combat.  He  's  a  fine  fellow,  Gallery  is, 
only  I  imagine  he  's  had  a  lot  of  hard  luck.  Did  you 
ever  see  a  prettier  little  hotel  than  this  —  I  mean,  of 
course,  for  a  town  of  this  size?  Look!  That's  the 
clerk  behind  the  desk  there.  An  amazingly  clever  fel 
low  —  you  just  ought  to  have  seen  how  sharp  he  was  in 
knowing  where  you  were  —  and  that's  a  Cypriaui 
cigar  he  's  smoking,  if  you  'd  like  to  know.  Jim  Hack- 
ley's  house  is  just  over  on  the  other  corner  —  why,  you 
can  see  it  from  here.  I  want  you  to  know  Hackley, 
sir !  A  great  big  whimsical  fellow  with  a  fist  like  a  ham 
and  a  heart  like  a  woman's.  .  .  .  Ah!  .  .  ." 

They  emerged  from  the  hotel  upon  the  noisy  street, 
still  lively  with  the  rush  of  home-goers ;  and  now  the 
two  men  stood  side  by  side  before  the  waiting  carriage, 
and  Varney's  flow  of  talk  had  ceased. 


VARNEY  REDEEMS   HIS   PROMISE      345 

From  the  square  there  came  the  shouts  of  many 
lingerers,  making  merry  in  the  tail  of  the  great  day 
according  to  their  desire.  Down  either  sidewalk  poured 
a  stream  of  people,  laughing,  talking,  and  calling  to 
each  other;  the  street  still  rumbled  under  passing 
vehicles;  the  Palace  Hotel,  in  particular,  had  become 
a  lodestone  and  near  to  Tommy's  victoria  much  human 
traffic  converged.  In  truth,  it  was  a  public  place  where 
all  who  wished  could  see,  and  many  did  see.  Yet  there 
was  nothing  in  the  little  scene  to  fix  the  gaze  of  the 
casual  wayfarer :  a  young  girl  sitting  in  a  well-appointed 
carriage,  and  two  men,  one  young  and  one  old,  ap 
proaching  with  bared  heads  to  speak  to  her.  Only  a 
close  observer  would  have  been  likely  to  notice  that 
the  old  man's  cheek  was  markedly  pale,  and  that  upon 
the  marred  face  of  the  younger  one  there  had  de 
scended  a  strange  and  solemn  look.  .  .  . 

For  Mary  there  had  been  no  surprise  in  seeing  the 
young  man  come  out  to  her  with  the  old  one  on  his 
arm — had  he  not  told  her  that  he  went  in  peace?  — 
and  even  the  glorious  metamorphosis  in  Mr.  Higgin- 
son's  appearance  quite  failed  to  arrest  her  attention. 
She  had  smoothed  his  approach  with  a  welcoming 
smile  and  the  beginning  of  a  gay  greeting;  but  her 
eyes  were  for  her  lover.  And  now  as  she  saw  the  look 
on  Varney's  face,  and  became  aware  of  the  odd  and 
impressive  silence  in  which  he  stood,  like  one  called  to 
officiate  at  some  high  ceremony,  understanding  incredi 
bly  dawned  within  her,  and  she  was  suddenly  without 
speech  or  breath.  Her  little  greeting  was  never  fin 
ished  ;  all  at  once  her  face,  grown  wonderfully  sweet, 


346       CAPTIVATING   MARY   CARSTAIRS 

was  whiter  than  the  old  man's  own;  and  the  eyes 
which  she  now  turned  back  to  him  were  full  and  over 
full  of  tears. 

"  Miss  Carstairs,"  said  Varney,  not  quite  steadily, 
"  may  I  have  the  great  honor  of  presenting  your 
father?" 


THE    END 


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